Like a Song in the Soul
by somedeepmystery
Summary: With the introduction of one Tracy Turnblad, Link is forced to reevaluate everything he thought he knew... especially about himself. A series of short fics. No repeated movie dialog. TracyLink with some necessary AmberLink.
1. Prologue

**Prologue **

Tracy couldn't really say how she knew - she simply _knew_. It was a full and weighty feeling that settled somewhere between her heart and the pit of her stomach… well no, that wasn't right. That made it sound like it was in her liver or something; but it wasn't like that.

It wasn't physical in any way; it was more like… like a song that played in her soul every time she thought of him.

It was a deep down sort of knowing. She just knew; just as she knew she would one day dance on the Corny Collins Show, and that she could trust Penny Pingleton with her darkest secrets. She knew it as she knew her parents truly loved each other; and that fairness was right, and there was some big change waiting for all of them right over the horizon.

She simply knew she was in love with Link Larkin.

It wasn't just a breathtaking, tummy twisting kind of puppy love. It was something real, something she knew wouldn't make much sense; at least certainly not to anyone she may have wanted to tell. She didn't really even know him, and there wasn't any one thing that she could specifically say, "this is why I love him." Yes, he was handsome. Sure, she loved his voice and loved the way he danced; but these superficial attributes were not the source of this _thing_ that she felt inside.

It was difficult because to only watch him walking around the halls of school, he seemed so much like a cardboard cut out of a person. A bit distant… two dimensional like his image on the TV screen. But she knew that he was more than those gorgeous blue eyes, or that heart tripping wink. She knew he was _so much_ more.

With one touch, one look from him to her, she knew. She knew that he had a heart the size of Texas, knew that he hated malice, and that he loved music for more than merely dancing to. She knew that he believed in what was right, and hated unfairness as much as she did. She knew he carried some dark pain locked deep inside, and that he kept so much of himself hidden from everyone around him.

She didn't know how she knew these things, she just knew. She knew that she loved him and that she was his; and one day, somehow, she knew he was going to love her too.


	2. Something like a Coup de Grâce

The back stage area was alive with the bright, colorful eddy of twirling skirts and the chatter of animated young voices; the air charged with excitement and filled with the heady perfumed scents of hairspray and powder. The large group of teens, trying to prepare for their upcoming performance, kept bumping into each other as they hurried about. Their excited voices reverted again and again to the same topic of conversation: the newest member of the Corny Collin's dance council.

"She sure knows how to shake things up," Brad said while moving to sit on the edge of Tammy's dressing table, his slacks clad legs crossed at the ankles. Tammy looked up at him with irritation and tugged her comb out from under his rear-end. "She had some great moves at the hop," he continued, unmoved by her objections.

"You thought it was good?" Brenda asked, looking at him curiously, absently wrapping a piece of her dark hair around her index finger. She was the only one not fixing her self up. She had only been called in to come clear off her table and make it ready for her replacement.

"I think she's kookie," Noreen inserted from two seats down.

"And sweet," Doreen added, to which her sister nodded in agreement.

"Well, Corny sure seemed to like her," someone else said.

Link listened to the conversation taking place around him carefully, though he maintained his look of nonchalance by pretending to focus on the perfect twist for his signature curl. He wanted to appear above all their scurrying and worrying, but inside he was hanging on every word. He felt heavily invested in it all for some reason. He had played a part in getting her on the show after all… or he liked to think that he did.

Really, he knew it was all her. The way she moved, the way she smiled - she lit the place up. How could Corny not have noticed her? Link liked to think he knew talent when he saw it; he had been on the Corny Collins show for nearly three years, seen dancers come and go, and from the moment he saw her dancing at rehearsal he knew it should be her. She was gifted… not to mention the fact that she had been pretty damn brave in the face of the formidable Von Tussle double attack. That was a feat he knew from personal experience not many had ever accomplished.

Of course he wasn't an idiot; he'd seen Mrs. Von Tussle tear apart new recruits before. He had also spent enough time with both Von Tussle ladies to know how they felt about anyone who didn't fit what they felt was the proper mold. Velma wasn't about to let a plump little darlin' like that on _her_ show, which to him seemed a darn shame; but he knew there was no changing her mind.

They had been cruel to her, cruel to all of the girls, and it had bothered him. He didn't care if it was business as usual; he had never been a fan of cruelty and had never really understood the reasoning behind it. Just because he was cool, hip, and incredibly good looking, didn't mean that he could treat people like… well like they weren't people. He figured the same should be true for everyone else.

He remembered though, that her smile had remained bright, her steps hadn't faltered. She hadn't let them intimidate her. He liked that. Then, later when he'd seen her dancing in detention he had to say something. He had to let her know his true thoughts.

His mind briefly returned to that particular encounter and he chewed his lip for a moment as he recounted the details then he pushed the thoughts quickly away.

And when she'd stepped out in the middle of that gym floor and started doing her thing… Well, she could definitely dance, and she was so… In any case, she was on the show; and _he_ had played a small part in it.

He tapped his comb against the palm of his hand excitedly, not realizing he was doing so.

He felt as if he'd staged some sort of coup! It was a bit of a rush.

"I can't believe all of you!"

At the sound of her voice that expansive feeling inside his chest quickly deflated.

"You should be outraged. That big blob of… of _Jell-o_ is going to make us all look completely ridiculous."

"Amber, you're just jealous because Link was flirting with her from the stage," Shelly tossed out off-handedly, her gaze focused on her carefully manicured nails; beside her Lou Anne giggled.

At mention of this issue Link perked up a bit nervously, ready to defend himself and do damage control if it came to that, but Amber was quicker on the draw.

"He was not! Puh-lease, it was a _performance_, Shelly! He was hamming it up for the kids at the dance; that's what he's supposed to do." Her voice sounded certain; but as she spoke she 'accidentally' bumped his chair from behind, slamming his chest hard into the edge of his dressing table, practically knocking the wind out of him and forcing out a soft grunt of pain.

"Well," Fender said, taking no notice of Link's discomfort; he reached out to swipe a can of hairspray from the momentarily incapacitated crooner, flipping it over once in his palm. "The girl is definitely _stacked_; and man, she knows how to move it."

A few of the girls gasped in shock at this somewhat vulgar comment and a few of the guys chuckled, but Amber whirled on the young man. "Those aren't breasts. It's just a lot of fat shoved into a bra!"

"Amber!" Link said, standing up suddenly. She just turned her angry glare on him. He wasn't unused to the hard stare and he let it glide off his shoulders like usual. He looked over her shoulder, seeing that Becky's face had gone pale, and turned around sharply to find Tracy standing behind them. For a moment, he thought the floor had gone out from beneath him. _Please tell me she didn't hear what Amber just said_, he thought. Then she looked around at everyone and smiled brightly. Link found himself smiling back at her; as if smiling widely was the most natural thing in the world for him. He was glad she seemed unaffected by the exchange of moments before, and hoped it meant she hadn't heard.

"So, where do I put my stuff?" she asked excitedly and he noticed she was holding a small bag and a can of Ultra Clutch. He also noticed she had changed her hair.

Amber snorted and rolled her eyes, but Brenda stood up from where she'd been leaning and moved out of the way. "Right here, Tracy; this will be your spot," she said rather flatly. She looked back at her former dressing table a little forlornly, her hand resting lightly on her stomach.

Tracy stepped toward the other girl, and Amber stepped closer to Link, wrapping her skinny arm around his middle. He looked down at that arm for a second, then around the room for Amber's mother; who seemed to have radar for such things and a great desire to keep them nonexistent.

"Thanks Brenda," Tracy was saying, her voice kind. "I hope you have fun where ever you're going. I'm gonna miss you being on the show." Brenda just looked at her, not sure what to say. Tracy set her things on the offered table and then looked past Brenda, smiling at Link.

Her big brown eyes were alight with excitement and Link couldn't help but feel an answering touch of excitement jump in his chest. She was like a ball of sunshine. When she spoke, her voice was sweet and at least as enthusiastic as the look on her face. "You really sang the heck out of that song at the hop, Link!" she said.

"Well, you really danced the heck out of it," he returned. "Congratulations for getting on the show." He leaned forward to offer her a congratulatory handshake, and felt the urge to give her a wink as well, but Amber's grip around his waist tightened to a degree that made breathing difficult; and both gestures fell away before they were fully initiated.

"C'mon Link, baby," Amber said turning to press herself against him fully, blocking his view of the new girl. She leaned up and kissed him slowly, deliberately, before pulling away to flash a false smile in Tracy's direction. "We better get started with rehearsal."

Link looked at Amber a bit stunned. She so rarely kissed him in public, especially not like that; and the way she was pressing against him had him a little rattled. She pulled him by the hand, his momentary state of distraction making it easy for her to drag him along with her to the dance floor. Link turned back for a moment and watched as Tracy waved hello to the rest of the council, all of whom greeted her with a bit more flair now that Amber wasn't in their midst.

Corny was sorting through albums near by while Velma hovered over him, looking irate and as they neared the dance floor, Link could hear Mrs. Von Tussle ranting. Her voice was hushed but every once in awhile a word or two reached his ears and he didn't like what he heard. He felt relief when Corny waved her away and moved toward his podium.

Rehearsal was incredibly strained. Amber couldn't seem to deal with things gracefully, and Link thought her constant vicious observations were giving him a twitch; which just _did not_ go with his image. Tracy, however, danced through the whole thing with style and charm; and her enthusiasm seemed to help balance out some of the bad vibes.

Because this was Tracy's first time on the show, Corny wanted to give her a dramatic introduction. Instead of doing the opening dance with the rest of them, she would wait until Roll Call where she'd have a grand entrance at the end, leading into her very own introduction of the Payton Place. Once the show had begun, and they were swinging around to "Nicest Kids in Town", Link found that he was really looking forward to the moment she would get to present her self and show all of Baltimore what she could do.

As he danced into place behind Doreen, he found himself eagerly anticipating her arrival behind him. When he heard her little squeak of eagerness, he chanced a look back and winked at her. The smile on her face could only be described as ecstatic and he felt a laugh bubble up in his chest; but quickly repressed it.

He did his intro, the abbreviated version, without any grudge at having lost the glory spot for the moment. He danced off to his mark and listened as Tracy made her entrance. He tried to focus on his own dancing; thankful he had been doing the same opening dance for three years and could probably do it in his sleep, because he couldn't help but watch her do her thing.

Whatever happened from this day on, he knew one thing for certain. Having Tracy around was going to make things far more interesting.


	3. It All Comes Down to the Best Laid Plans

"So, how are things going with you son?"

Link looked up at the sound of his father's voice. The rarity of them having a meal together alone was enough to have him feeling slightly uncomfortable. He took a small drink from his water glass and wondered if his father was going to grill him or if this was really just the casual question it appeared to be.

"Great, Pop, things are going great."

"Tell me what you think of this new girl they have on your show," Edward Larkin asked and Link paused with his glass halfway to his mouth. He set the glass down and looked at his father again.

"I think she's great… why?" He immediately wished he hadn't given his father that opening. He didn't want to hear a bunch of negative talk about this subject and his father was always good with the negative opinions.

"Nothing, she looks like a sweet heart, she's just not the type usually picked for those kids of things and I wondered what you thought about it."

Link felt relief and smiled slightly. "I think she's a good dancer and I'm glad Corny gave her a shot," he said simply and his father nodded.

The room once again fell into an uncomfortable silence. The two men sat at either end of the rectangular table, each lost in their own thoughts, millions of unsaid words piled in the space between them. Link didn't hear his father's voice again until Mrs. Crandall appeared with their main course.

"I talked to Bob Bagley today. You know him, he coaches track and field?" His dad announced over the plate of food the housekeeper had just placed in front of him. Link looked down at his own plate and tried to pretend he hadn't heard that meaningful tone in his father's voice. The tone that said, I have plans for you kid and this is me trying to steer you in that direction.

"He seems to think you'd do well in the sport…"

"Pop, this is the end of junior year, it's a bit late for me to start up with sports now."

"I don't think so," Mr. Larkin said with his usual sense of authority, his fork ready in hand to stab a bite of meatloaf. "Besides, you can't expect to get into Stanford if your only extracurricular activity is playing around on some local dance show."

Link set his fork down. Stanford, his father's beloved _al ma mater_. A moment ago he'd been famished, now he felt like pushing his plate as far away as possible. "It's not playing around, and maybe I don't want to go to Stanford."

"And what exactly do you intend to do with your life then?"

"We already talked about this…"

"You cannot make a living out of dancing and singing on some television show." His father's smooth baritone had gone up a notch in volume and Link could already see the tell tale throbbing of that vein in his forehead.

"You don't know that… we had a deal. If I get signed by the end of senior year then I'm off the hook, if not then I'll go to college…"

"But how do you expect to get into a good college if…"

"I'm doing what I need to do to get where _I_ want to go. It's not about you, Pop."

"Hey, don't take that tone with me," Edward said leaning onto the table and pointing his fork in his son's direction.

"Alright, how about I take no tone," Link said with forced calm, pushing his untouched plate away and standing up from the table. "I've got a lot of homework to do." He made his way upstairs in a steady, normal gait. He hadn't stormed off to his room since he'd been thirteen and no matter how frustrated his old man made him he wasn't gonna fall back into the habit now.

If he acted cool, then it was cool. This wasn't anything he couldn't handle. He had his plan firmly in place. If he stuck with it just a little bit longer then he could have what he wanted.

He never let himself dwell on the fact that he had never been exactly certain what that was.


	4. A Little Misstep in the Right Direction

Link didn't find the new steps all that difficult. After he had spent the night practicing them at home, they were already becoming second nature. But it was quickly becoming obvious that most of the others weren't feeling the same confidence. This was especially true of Amber, who kept glaring over his shoulder instead of paying attention. He bit back a curse as she kicked him in the shin for the third time.

"You're not doing it right," she spat at him in a harsh whisper.

"You should try paying attention," he whispered back with equal animosity.

There was a loud sigh from off to the left, and Link chanced a look at Corny Collins as he tried to contain his frustration and maintain his insuppressibly happy demeanor. "Okay kids, that was… better. Let's try it again, only this time, Tracy and Bix; I'd like it if you could dance over here a bit more."

The two dancers obediently moved more toward the center of the dance floor. Link saw Amber's gaze follow the other girl with a look of intense dislike, and it occurred to him that this was what she had been doing while they were dancing as well. His bruised shin throbbed and as he took her hand and pulled her into dance position, he made sure to turn them so her back was to the other couple.

"Alright, let's do it again," Corny announced and began the music, calling out the count to help keep them in time. Link's hand rested lightly on Amber's back, his other held her arm elegantly out to the side. He tried to make eye contact with her but her glare was centered on his chest. He thought briefly of commenting on the little creases she was making in her forehead but the ache in his shin made him think better of it. He pressed gently against her hand to indicate the turn, but she went the wrong way and her foot once again made hard contact with his shin.

"Damn it, Amber!" he growled, losing his cool for a moment as he grabbed his leg and hopped away from her. It was a brief lapse and a second later he was straightening up and pulling his dark jacket even again, adopting a nonchalant countenance as he smoothed back his hair.

At the same time, Corny was reprimanding him for his language; though he could barely be heard over Amber's outraged gasp and the stifled giggling of the other council members. Link didn't know why his eyes shot to Tracy, but when they did he didn't find her laughing. Instead she was looking at him with sympathy in her pretty brown eyes.

"Sorry, Mr. Collins," Link said smoothly, just enough of a conciliatory tone to appease the adult, but not so much as to appear the kiss ass. It was a good thing Mrs. Von Tussle was out today or he would have gotten in a lot more trouble for the slip than anything Corny would ever dish out. Usually the days Mrs. Von Tussle was absent from rehearsal were the best because they were allowed to relax a little and try a few different things. Even if they would never get to perform them on the show, it felt good. Unfortunately, this particular rehearsal only needed the younger Von Tussle to suck the fun out of it completely.

"How _dare _you yell at me like that," Amber screeched, glaring daggers at him. She made to continue but her sharp reprimands were overridden by Corny as he moved closer and clapped his hands, commanding attention.

"Alright, alright; most of us seem to be having some difficulty with this one, so I want everyone to just line up toward the back. Tracy… Link, you two seem to be the only ones who have this down, so I want you two to come up here and show these guys how it's done."

"What?" Tracy said with surprise and Link couldn't help but smile a little at her tone. It was obvious she was pleased with being singled out for doing well. Honestly, he wasn't surprised. He moved toward center stage and held his hand out to her.

"Wait a minute, you can't do that…" Amber started indignantly but was quickly cut off by Corny.

"Amber, it's just for demonstrational purposes. No one's getting changed up permanently," he said tightly. That happy face gone for the moment, he pressed his fingers to his temple and used them to make small circles against his skull. He seemed to say something else as he walked toward the phonograph, but it was too low to be heard.

It wouldn't have mattered anyway, because Link wasn't listening; Tracy had just put her small hand in his and he was momentarily distracted by the softness of her palm against his. Her hold on his hand was firm and confident, neither overly delicate nor gripping or clingy, and he adjusted his grip to match.

They stepped together easily and he found himself looking down at her. He put his hand gently at her waist and encountered more of that incredible softness, warm against his fingers through the material of her blouse. The thought of it made him feel somewhat overheated and he reflexively cleared his throat. When the music started he went back instead of forward, pulling Tracy off balance, and a second later his arms were full of very soft and cuddly girl. He was holding her up, her breasts crushed against his chest, and she was looking up at him with those dark eyes; seeming a bit stunned. He hoped he didn't look the same way because he certainly felt it.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, I thought…" she was saying, but he shook his head.

"No worries, Darlin', that one was all my fault." He realized he was still holding her and gently set her back on her feet. "Let's try it again," he murmured softly near her ear, "we'll show these squares how it's done."


	5. It’s Really Just a Short Distraction

It's Really Just a Short Distraction

Brad was going on about some aspect of his life that was causing him trouble and Link wasn't really paying attention - it was their usual pattern. Instead, he was running lyrics through his mind to the rhythm of his walk. A girl by the lockers smiled at him as he passed by; he grinned and gave her a wink. He was definitely looking good in this new suit. That was the thirty-sixth smile he'd gotten so far and it wasn't even lunch yet!

"I'm not really sure what to do about it… I mean, should I ask her to go steady or should we keep things as they are?" Brad was asking next to him. Link just shrugged a little, careful not to wrinkle his threads; the song in his head was starting to take shape.

_She's got those big brown eyes_

_And all that long brown hair_

_If I could make her mine_

_I'd take her everywhere… _

…_anywhere… take her…_

At that moment he caught sight of a dome of dark hair, perfectly coifed and accented with blonde, moving into the hall from a nearby classroom. He slowed down his walk, unconsciously waiting for a glimpse of the girl to whom that particular 'do belonged. The crowd parted only for a moment to reveal none other than Tracy Turnblad, dressed in her usual blouse and skirt combo. All thoughts of song lyrics or Brad's girl troubles fled as his gaze skimmed her form, taking quick note of the sway of her hips and the way her dark pink skirt flirted about her knees as she moved down the hall, dancing along to music only she could hear.

The mass of students closed around her once more and she disappeared from his view. He scanned the crowd for another look at her, leaning up on his toes. _She is so damn short_, he thought; and without his knowledge a slow smile crept across his face.

"Larkin, what the hell are you smiling about? I'm over here begging you for your input and you look like you're on another planet!"

"Hmm?" Link responded, his preoccupied mind slow to decipher the words Brad was saying. After a second he quickly added, "Sorry man." He couldn't quite wipe the smile off his face, but managed to turn it into his usual smirk. "I got a little… distracted." He motioned a bit impatiently for Brad to continue and tried to actually listen this time; he needed to cover for that crazy grin and the odd bubbling feeling that seemed to be bouncing around inside of him at the moment.

As they walked, they came to a small traffic jam in the hallway. Link didn't really notice it until Brad stopped mid sentence and said, "Move!" He packed just enough star power of his own to get a response from the mob of kids who all shuffled to the side as the boys cut through. Everyone, that is, except a particular little girl with big hair who turned around and looked up at Brad with a sassy look.

"My, you're bossy," Tracy admonished with a grin and Brad, looking slightly reprimanded, smiled back at her. Link felt peculiar about seeing her smiling so brightly at Brad, but the sinking feeling in his chest evaporated when she turned to him and beamed. Was he mistaken or did she smile wider when she looked at him? "Hey, Link," she said, chin pressing flirtatiously into her shoulder. "You sure are killing in that new suit today."

"Well, thank you Darlin'," he said confidently, tugging gently on the dark blue lapels. _Ha!_ He thought to himself as she turned away, _make that…_ He stopped to think but for the life of him couldn't remember how many smiles he'd already gotten that day. He'd just had it a moment ago… He watched as she once again disappeared into the throng with a bounce in her step. Smiling to himself for the umpteenth time in the last ten minutes, he let the thought go and started a new tally.

One smile from Tracy Turnblad… and it was still before lunch. He had plenty of time.


	6. Please Tell Me You're Going My Way

They were on their way to their usual Friday night hangout; and Link's car was brimming with council kids, all talking loudly, with several conversations going at once. Link however, had stopped listening when he'd spotted a familiar figure moving along the sidewalk. Seeing that she made a right on one of the side streets just ahead, Link quickly turned his car to follow, cutting off a blue car in the other lane and raising a chorus of annoyed honking.

"What are you doing?" Brad asked as Link maneuvered to the side of the street. Link didn't answer him but instead slowed down to a snail crawl beside the figure walking jauntily down the sidewalk. Tracy turned and smiled when she saw them.

"Hey Little Girl, need a ride somewhere?" he asked, his voice as smooth as warm butter.

"Hi; wow, where are you all going?" she asked. Her eyes scanned over the faces of the kids who were nearly spilling over the sides of his black convertible, and Link said a quick thank you to the powers that be for family obligation; which was the reason for Amber's absence from the scene. He felt a little twinge of guilt for thinking that way but found that he couldn't change his mind; so instead he decided to simply not think about her.

"We're going to Eddie's for malts!" Doreen was saying happily in reply to Tracy's question.

"You should come, too!" Noreen cried. "Link, stop and let her get in."

Link slowed the car to a complete stop, his affection for those crazy twins increasing several degrees. He looked up to see Tracy's dark eyes observing him questioningly, with just an inkling of doubt; and he realized that at that moment, he wanted nothing more then to wipe it away. He gave her a wink and nodded his head toward the backseat. "Get in Doll, chocolate malts wait for no man," he said, and the smile that broke over her face did something strange to his stomach.

She had to get in through the front seat, so Link pulled the emergency brake and got out, holding the door for her. He caught the faintest hint of her scent as she moved past him and climbed in, presenting a nice view of her round rear end as she did so. Noreen and Doreen made space for her between them, their feet somehow tucked behind all the kids crammed in the backseat. He watched as she smiled and shrugged her shoulders, and the girls started to chat with her about her day.

He realized that he was grinning rather widely and fought for a moment with the muscles in his face. Grinning like and idiot was not cool. He slid easily into his seat and checked his hair in the mirror, his face once more a façade of detached calm. He even managed to keep it that way as he drove the mob of council members to their destination, despite having Tracy - laughing and smiling and wiggling around - smack in the middle of his rearview mirror the entire way.


	7. When Life's a Piece of Cake

He was sauntering across the foot worn stretch of grass, making his way through the lunch crowd toward his usual table. He threw a return nod to a couple of guys at the hot-rodder's table, tossed a wink to one girl, and twisted to avoid the grabby hands of another. As he walked, his gaze scanned the crowds of kids, being careful to give his attention to everyone who might be offended if he didn't, and avoid the gaze of anyone he knew would get the wrong idea. He took his heart throb status seriously, knowing these kids had influence when it came to his career. As he looked the mass of students over, his gaze lighted on a certain chick with dark hair stepping out through the school doors.

She was walking with her friend – the one with the seemingly ever present lollipop – and he waited a beat to see if she'd look over at him. When she continued on walking and talking, oblivious to his presence, he disregarded the empty feeling that suddenly flooded him; opting instead to continue to walk toward the table across the lawn where his girlfriend awaited him. A collective gasp, and a cry from where he'd just been looking caught his attention, and he spun around just in time to see Tracy crumple to the ground.

He was at her side in a second – in fact he may have leapt over a table of freshmen to get there that fast – and kneeling in front of her. She was holding the side of her face with chocolate icing oozing down her fingers.

"What the hell? Trace, are you alright?"

She didn't say anything at all and he looked up at her friend questioningly, finding her hazel eyes wide with shock and anger. "Someone hit her in the face with a piece of cake!" she said fiercely.

"Trace?" he asked, looking at her again. It was then that he saw the deep mortification on her face, saw the single tear that snaked its way down her soft cheek, both of which she was trying desperately to hide from him. He yanked a handkerchief out of his pocket and crooked a finger under her chin, tipping her face up to look at him. "Hey?" he asked gently. "You okay?"

She looked up at him then with eyes as dark as the chocolate that clung to her skin. "I'm fine," she said finally, "just… completely humiliated…"

"Nah," he said softly brushing away that heart wrenching tear, "it ain't that bad. I'm sure hardly anyone even noticed" He sucked a stray bit of frosting off his thumb, tasting the saltiness of her tear along with the sweetness of chocolate. Despite his words of comfort, he moved the side just a little so that between him and her friend, they blocked the view of her from most of the crowd. He took his handkerchief and started to gently wipe the frosting and bits of cake away from her cheek. Her skin felt unbelievably soft under his fingers as he steadied her; and that, along with her prettily blushing cheeks, distracted him a little. He tried to keep his hand steady and his face calm, but inside he was fuming.

"You don't have to…" She placed her hand over his as if to stop him, and he froze for a second; something different and discomfiting bursting through his anger momentarily.

"Hey, what else is a fella' to do when he sees a damsel in distress, Doll?" he managed to say. He wiped away the last vestiges of the dessert, all the while thinking of what he'd do if he found the person who'd done this. Tracy was the type of person who wouldn't hurt anyone, so who would want do something like this to her?

She was looking at him, all big brown eyes and slightly parted pink lips, and he was suddenly feeling very unsteady. "There yah go," he said quietly. "You may want to sneak off to the bathroom to fix your hair though, there's some unfortunate collateral damage."

She lifted a hand to her hair. "Oh, thanks…"

"Hey, no prob. Here, let me help you up." He took her hands and helped her to her feet, holding on until he was sure she was steady. He placed his hands on her shoulders for a moment and gave her a quick wink. "Okay, I'll see you later," he said when he stepped back. She straightened her clothes and her friend took her hand and led her back the way they had come.

He watched them walk away with a frown marring his features. Glancing down at the piece of cake on the ground, his frowned deepened, but after a moment of futile attempts at problem solving, he started toward his original destination.

He nodded at his friends as he arrived and climbed over the bench to sit next to Amber.

"Hey, Baby," Amber said, sliding closer to him.

"Hey," he said leaning in automatically for a kiss. He looked around still distracted by his angry thoughts and realized he had lost his lunch somewhere along the way.

"What was all the drama over there?" Brad asked from across the table.

Link was looking around to see what he could scavenge from the lunches around him but glanced up at Brad to answer. "Nothing," he said with a shrug. He was irritated and wanted to ask if anyone had seen anything; but on the other hand, he didn't want to cause Tracy any more embarrassment if people hadn't witnessed the incident.

"Well, that's good," Amber said in and oddly bright tone of voice. "That's the last thing we need around here."

"Mmm," Link said non-committal as he perused her remaining lunch. His investigation stopped when he saw the empty Tupperware. He reached out and picked it up, noting the chocolate frosting still stuck to one side. "You had cake?"

"Oh yeah," Amber said as she looked away, pressing a thin hand to her pale hair. "Sorry, I didn't save you any." She jutted out her lower lip and gave him an apologetic pout.

"But you don't eat cake…" he said, ignoring the pout.

"Sure I do… sometimes… Mary Jo made it and packed it for me; and it was really good. A little sweet every once in awhile is okay, and it was just a tiny piece." She waved him off and turned to talk to Becky some more. Link looked from her to the suspicious dish but wasn't sure what to think.

Surely she wouldn't do that? Someone would've seen her, wouldn't they? And she wasn't possibly that petty or that cruel… No, that just wasn't possible.

He shook his head and looked over to Brad who had a huge club sandwich sitting in front of him. "Hey Brad, looks like Betty Anne Johnson has a new sweater," he said pretending to look at something across the way.

"What?" Brad declared, his eyes widening and his head whipping around to look.

Link reached out and swiped half of the club and took an enormous bite.

"I don't see her… Hey!" he shouted when he saw half his sandwich in Link's hands. Link just shrugged as he munched the delicious bite he'd stolen. Everyone around them laughed; and for a little while, he forgot about being angry and about missing pieces of cake.


	8. The Sun Shines Through the Rain

He'd just stepped out of the studio doors with the rest of the dancers when the sky opened up and began to pour down rain. He cursed loudly, not caring who heard him, and ran for his car. Rain was streaming down his face; and the mixture of it and the hairspray coating his head, stung his eyes and blurred his vision. He reached the leather flap that safely concealed his custom soft top and yanked at the snaps, popping open the first two with ease, but struggling slightly with the third as the feeling of cold and wet started to numb his fingers.

"Shit!" he declared loudly to what he assumed was an audience that only consisted of his quickly flooding car.

"How do you undo this thing?" a familiar voice asked and his eyes shot up to lock with Tracy's across the back of his car.

"It just unsnaps… what are you doing here? It's pouring down rain!" He stumbled over his words, happily surprised to see her, but concerned for her as well. It was cold, she could get sick.

"You looked like you needed help!" She hollered, both of them needing to raise their voices to be heard over the sound of the rain as it pelted against the car between them. He watched as she yanked two snaps loose, biting her lip in concentration as she made a small noise of exertion. He wrenched his eyes away from her and went after the snaps on his side with renewed gusto. His car was going to be a swimming pool if he didn't hurry.

Moment's later he was pulling the top from its compartment and she helped him guide it up and forward until it reached his windshield. He carefully latched it into place on his side, and then came around to do the other, his hand brushing against Tracy's as he pressed the latch down. She looked at him for a moment, blinking in the rain, and he noted her hair had gone completely flat. It was much longer than it looked when in its usual style.

"We need to roll up the windows, right?" she asked suddenly and he blinked, startled as she pulled him from his thoughts. He ran back around to the driver's side and opened the door, a small rush of water emptying out onto his feet. Biting back on another curse, he reached inside and turned the lever. Tracy did likewise and as he looked up, she smiled at him across the expanse of interior between them.

"Do you need a ride?"

"What?"

"I said, do you need a ride?"

"Oh, no; my parents will be here soon to pick me up."

"Do you want to get in and keep dry while you wait?"

He followed her gaze as she looked around the partially flooded interior and down at her already soaked clothing. "It doesn't look so dry!"

He laughed and ran around to the trunk of his car; his shirt collar flipped up in an attempt to hinder the flow of rain running down his back. He grabbed a handful of towels and tossed them on the front seat. "I like to be prepared," he said when she looked at him bemused.

"Well, Mr. Prepared, maybe next time you should just put the top up _before_ practice so we can avoid these incidents in the future?"

"Yeah, thanks, that's really helpful," he returned and she giggled. He grinned widely and knew he looked stupid doing it but didn't care. "So, are you gonna get in?"

"No. Thank you though. I don't think my ma would like it."

Disappointment settled quickly in his stomach and he pushed it away. "Alright then, I guess I'll see you at school tomorrow."

"Bye," she said; then nodded and gave him a little wave before she closed the door. He watched her walk back to the studio doors where several other kids were waiting just inside out of the rain. When she was safely in the company of Miss Sarah, one of the stage managers, he started his car. Pausing briefly to listen to the comforting purr of the engine, he thought about her running through the rain to help him. He thought about her ruined hair, drenched by the rain; and how she had said "next time," as if maybe she wanted to hang out with him again in the future… He smiled slowly and pulled out of the lot, carefully making his way home through the heavy downpour.


	9. A Change of Scene was the Most I Bargain

_Canadian Sunset_ was playing on the jukebox of Eddie's Diner, Andy Williams' vocals nearly drowned out by the sounds of young voices raised in excitement or deep in conversation. The Corny Collins Dance Council kids were holding court on Friday night, as was their custom, and the front section of the small dining room was packed with teens; all of whom were trying to become a part - or at least bask in the glow - of that elite bunch.

In the largest corner booth, the most coveted booth, which was slightly raised up from the floor in a way reminiscent of a throne's dais, sat Link Larkin. Beside him, his girlfriend Amber was giggling with her pack of yes-girls and picking sporadically at a green salad in front of her. Every once in awhile though, she would turn and give him what he was sure she thought was a subtle glare.

Even though he was sitting back against the padded booth, appearing calm and relaxed; under the cover of the table he was harassing her by repeatedly trying to slide his fingers beneath the hem of her skirt. The back of his hand was hot and probably bright red from the slaps she had been doling out; but hell, it was entertaining.

Or it had been up until a few moments ago.

There was a burst of laughter from a nearby table that drew his attention away from the sport. A group of teens were gathered there, laughing and joking, and in the center of their number was one Tracy Turnblad. Of course Tracy had been popular from her first moment on the show, and Link really couldn't blame everyone for gathering around her, begging for her attention. There was just something about her that really drew you in, and though he was incapable of saying what that something was exactly; obviously he wasn't the only one who felt it.

But it wasn't that spark of something that had really captured his attention the last few weeks. It wasn't just her dancing or her amazing voice. No, instead it was just her, and the way she affected everyone around her. She was so different from any girl he had ever known before.

Since the day Tracy had first danced her way onto the Corny Collins show, everything had gotten… better. She never shoved her way to the front or jockeyed to be seen more than the others. It seemed that the competitions between council members were less heated when she was around, and people were dancing better than they ever had before. She worked hard and never complained; helping anyone who asked her and never holding back. She was so genuinely happy to be there, and seemed to love what she was doing so much, that she made everyone happier. Even Corny Collins seemed to be filled with more gusto, and for him that was really saying something.

Link heard a small huff from beside him and gave a sideways look to Amber. She was glaring daggers at the very same table he been quietly studying and it reminded him that Tracy didn't quite make everyone happier. He really wished that Amber and Mrs. Von Tussle would just get over whatever it was they had against the girl and let it be. How could they not see she was the best thing that had ever happened to the show?

He turned back to what seemed, at the moment, to be the most popular table in the room just in time to watch Tracy toss her head back with a rather exuberant laugh. He took note, briefly, of how soft the skin of her neck looked. Secretly he wished he could just get up and go over there, and be in on whatever joke could make her laugh like that. Nevertheless, he was Link Larkin, and this was his booth. His groupies were dutifully seated in a parallel booth on the other side of the room just so they could watch him sit and maybe eat some French fries. He couldn't disappoint them.

This was where people expected him to sit and so here is where he sat. Keeping them all happy was a key part of the plan. So, he was going to continue to sit just where he was until the lot of them decided to move on to wherever this Friday night might lead them.

Still, it was a tempting idea. They looked like they were having fun, and he knew she wouldn't stick around long. After about an hour of hanging around with this group, she'd slip away with her friend – the one sitting next to her, sucking away on her lollipop. He didn't know if they went home or to some other place they preferred more than this, but although he was curious, he never got up to follow.

As if on cue, Tracy rose from her seat, gracefully gathering her things. She said good-bye to Joey, Vicki, and Fender; then shared a quick double hug with Noreen and Doreen. She smiled and waved at everyone else around the table, all of whom were asking her to stay.

_Say good-bye to me_. The thought flooded his mind unexpectedly as she pulled her sweater off the back of her chair and draped it across her shoulders. He realized he really wanted her to look his way and give him that hundred watt smile of hers. How _much_ he wanted it was some what disturbing, actually.

As if reading his mind, she looked up at him and grinned, waving her fingers at him. He didn't really understand why her actions made his heart beat a little faster, but he managed to give her a perfect wink and a little wave that he hoped appeared as cool as he was going for. It earned him an even broader smile and a longer stretch of eye contact before she turned with her friend to leave.

A sharp pain in his thigh brought his mind reeling back from thoughts about where Tracy was off to, and right back to his seat next to Amber. His girlfriend's sharp nails were cutting into his flesh through the fabric of his chinos. She wasn't even looking at him; she simply increased her death grip slowly as she continued talking to Laura with a tight smile, commenting on how relieved she was that "the roach nest" had finally left.

Link gritted his teeth and pried her hand off with as much _savoir faire_ as he could muster.

Amber turned to him with a saccharine smile and, squeezing his fingers, lifted their joined hands to rest on the table together and in plain view of anyone who cared to look.

"Hey Larkin?" The interruption broke the couple's tense gaze as they both turned to look at the speaker. "Let's go see what's playing at the drive in," Jessie called out, making his way toward their booth. Link just shook his head. He really didn't feel like being trapped in a car with Amber right now.

"I say we head straight to The Point," Mickey announced from his cozy spot in a near by booth, where one of his fans was sidled up beside him looking very affectionate.

Worse idea, Link thought; at least at the drive-in there was a movie to distract him when Amber called a halt to their carefully choreographed make out session, which usually left her feeling powerful and him in pain.

There were several more suggestions from the group at large and Link felt a sudden bout of irritation with them and their need to run it past him. What? They couldn't decide on their own?

Amber was looking at him expectantly but he couldn't think of a single thing he wanted to do.

"Isn't there anything new to do in this town?" he heard himself ask. They all just stared back at him with blank faces. Link sighed. Right, he was the guy in orbit; he was supposed to have those answers, but all he wanted at that moment was to just go home and put all this out of mind… or to find out where Tracy was going…

What he said was, "the drive-in it is then," and watched as everyone happily got up to follow his decision.

--


	10. When the World is Quiet

When the World is Quiet

Link sat up sharply, waking suddenly from deep sleep, trying to flee the dream his unconscious mind had conjured. His heart was pounding wildly and instinctively he brought his hand to his chest, pressing the heel of it against his sternum as if the pressure would somehow regulate the organ's rhythm. His breathing was ragged, frantic as if he had just run a mile, his lungs tight; and it was several moments before he could manage to breath normally. He ran a hand over his face, wiping away perspiration and feeling a small bit of self loathing for its existence. When his mind recalled the images of his dream, he flinched.

Usually, when he dreamed of his mother it was as he had last seen her alive; dressed in her lavender dressing gown, her dark hair pulled over her shoulder in soft waves bound loosely with a ribbon. She had been tucking him in despite his protests that he was too old for such things. When she had kissed his cheek, he had wiped it off grumpily; but she just smiled at him and gave him a gentle pat. The next morning she had been gone, and he was left with that stark memory to haunt him forever.

But this time hadn't been like that.

She'd been in the center of a grand ballroom, dressed in the red ball gown he remembered so clearly that he could see the sequined rose on her shoulder. She had been looking right at him. He knew she was trying to say something to him; her lips moved insistently and her eyes were pleading, but no matter how he tried reach her, the throng of people around him – his agent Harry, his father, Mrs. Von Tussle, and Amber; along with others whose faces he couldn't see – always managed to push him farther and farther away.

His last view of her face had been to see her worried expression as she turned to talk to someone just beyond his vision, and though her lips were moving, he couldn't hear her words… and that was when he had woke up.

Feeling restless with confused thoughts and haunting memories, he threw his blanket aside and flopped back, spread eagle, on the bed; letting the night air cool him. When his heart seemed to have slowed to a more reasonable rate, he climbed from his bed and padded barefoot over to the window. The moon was bright, shining just beyond the large tree that grew outside; the one he climbed down when sneaking out was in order. He let his head rest against the cool glass and looked up at the bit of silver light that he could see.

"Why do I feel like there is something important that I'm missing?" he said aloud, as if the moon might answer him… or perhaps his mother would. He knew that was what she had been trying to tell him in the dream. She wanted to help him understand, and name, the tension he had been feeling lately; but aside from that he wasn't much into dream interpretation. Yet, he could feel it there, nagging insistently at the back of his mind; or somewhere else deep inside him where he couldn't see it clearly. Something was happening, sweeping him along in its wake and he had no idea what it was or where it was taking him.

"I just want things to work out, is that so much to ask? I know what I want… mostly, and I know how I'm going to get there. I don't want to mess things up."

The large orb of silver light did not offer a response; and if his mother did, he certainly couldn't hear her. Still, there was something there pressing at him, calling to him.

He rubbed his hand over his chest again, feeling his heart beating beneath his palm.

He knew who he was; he knew what he was doing. It was just a dream; it didn't change anything. He nodded in agreement to his own inner thoughts and made his way back to the bed, crawling in beneath the blankets.

It didn't change anything at all.


	11. She's Made Her Mark DeeperThan She Knows

The street outside the station was bustling with people. Girls and boys alike were waiting for the council members, screaming and waving pieces of paper at them as they exited through the rear door of the station building. Link straightened his jacket before making his way over to the crowd with a wave and a charming smirk, taking the first pen and paper he encountered. He was signing away on autopilot when a conversation somewhere near by caught his ear. It was the sound of her voice that drew his attention, and he looked around for a moment, not seeing the girl he expected anywhere near him; then he looked down.

His gaze fell on Tracy, kneeling to be at eye level with a small child in the crowd. The girl was holding one of those weird head signs with Tracy's face on it, clutching an autograph book to her chest, and she was crying.

"They said I couldn't ever be a dancer like you 'cause my legs are funny," the little girl said, her voice shaky. Link noticed the awkward braces strapped to the child's skinny legs and found him self listening intently as Tracy gave her reply.

She reached up and took the girl's quivering chin and gave it a soft squeeze. "Don't you listen to those people; there are a lot of folks out there who have a lot of mean things to say, but you are the one who gets to decide where you go and what you do. Look at me; they said mean things about my legs too, but here I am, dancing on the Corny Collins show!"

"And showing the rest of us up, if I might add my two cents," Link said as he kneeled down beside them his eyes on Tracy for a moment before he shifted his attention. "Wouldn't you agree, sweetheart?" he asked, addressing the little girl. She looked at him wide eyed and nodded, even as she ducked behind her book for cover. Link felt his heart twist in his chest in that moment, and it was such a foreign feeling that he almost lost his balance. He looked back into that little girl's green eyes and gave her a soft smile as she responded to his statement.

"She's real good. You are too Link," she said blushing and swaying side to side.

"Oh my goodness, it's Link!" Tracy said enthusiastically, smiling at the child. The fan-girlish tone in her voice caused his heart to speed up a bit, and his eyes studied her as she interacted with the child. "Get him to sign your book quick, before the other girls grab him away!"

Link laughed lightly at her little display, and the girl quickly thrust her book out to him. He smiled at her and took it gently. "What's your name, Darlin'?" he asked.

"Nell," she said softly.

"Nell," Link repeated and addressed a quick note to her by name. "Never give up on your dreams," he said aloud as he wrote, then signed his name across the page and handed it back to her with a wink. She smiled broadly as she held it close to her chest for a moment, and then darted back to her mother.

"That was really nice of you, Link," Tracy said once the little girl's mother had led her away. She had turned slightly to face him and her rich brown eyes focused on him intently.

"It was nothin'," he responded, suddenly feeling dangerously close to letting his cool falter. She was making him feel very, very different than he had ever remembered feeling before.

"It was something," she said, "you just made her day." After a brief moment, she asked, "why do people have to be so mean? Where does it come from?"

Forgetting that they were kneeling on the sidewalk with a sea of people raging above them, Link just gazed back at her. "I wish I knew."

He looked into her eyes; finding so much there to be seen, so much to try to understand, that it was mesmerizing. He didn't even stop to wonder why she hadn't moved, why she was looking right back at him as if searching him thoroughly.

"Link!" Amber's somewhat shrill cry cut through all the other noise and he jerked to his feet, looking around for her location. Tracy stood up beside him, a bit more slowly, smoothing her dark plaid skirt with her palms.

"Well, I'll see yah later," she said quietly and moved away.

"Yeah," he replied uncertainly. He tried not to watch her go, tried to focus on the people in front of him shouting his name; but kept looking over at her smiling face as she talked with each person who demanded her attention.

And for a moment, he thought he heard bells ringing somewhere in the distance…


	12. Nothing Like a Little Vice

Note:_There is actually one part before this that was unfortunately beyond the rating. I didn't want to increase the rating of this for just one piece, so it is posted under Like a Song in the Soul: Push. _

--

Nothing Like a Little Good Vice

Link Larkin was not without his vices. Most of them were trivial, well kept secrets; like his regular _need_ to eat strawberry ice cream for example, or the way he would bang out little ditties on his guitar at one a.m. when he couldn't sleep… or the fact that he rather compulsively bought things for his car. None of these, however, were quite as important to him as the need to occasionally find a dark and quiet place to find his calm. It was the key ingredient to maintaining the Link Larkin image adored by all.

At some point during his school years he had found a neglected closet near the basement stairs. It was out of the way and, of course, locked. That hadn't been much of an obstacle for him; he'd simply pilfered the keys and made his own copy. This closet, leaving aside the stacks of grimy old buckets and the musty smell, had become his sanctuary. It was here in the dark that he would lean back against the cool cement wall and just be mellow.

Often times, when least expected, an uneasiness would rise up inside of him, something gnawing and uncomfortable that he couldn't put his finger on. Today was one of those times. As of late, the feeling had been occurring with more and more frequency and over time it was becoming a bit more defined. It wasn't something he was comfortable with. He had never been a person given to examining his feelings; they tended to muck things up, make things complicated.

He preferred things _un_complicated.

And so it was that, in order to aid his quest for this uncomplicated feeling, he had sought out his refuge. He'd shut the door and walked blindly to the opposing wall, leaned back against it and closed his eyes. He had just managed to find the well honed switch in his psyche that allowed him to go from anxious mess to calm, cool heartthrob when the door banged open loudly. Light momentarily spilled into the small space before the door was quickly closed again, plunging the room once more into darkness.

He opened his eyes and tried to see if someone was there, wondering if his cover was blown. Had someone come in? Or had they seen him there and run off? If so, how long until the entire school knew he liked to hide in the closet? What sort of damage control would he need to instigate? He peered into the darkness looking for a presence.

The bare light bulb over head suddenly clicked on and he jerked back, blinded by the sudden brightness, and bumped into the wall. A voice cried out in surprise and he managed to squint in that direction.

For a long moment he felt like the air had been crushed from his lungs and he simply stood there blinking dumbly in the bright light. There, leaning back against the closet door – and looking completely stunned in her own right – was the one and only Tracy Turnblad. He had been avoiding thoughts of her all day and now she was standing less than a foot from him, shut up in a tiny closet.

He wondered briefly if a girl could be a vice.

"I'm sorry! I didn't know… I just needed to… hide. There were so many people and I just… I think they're great and all, every one of them, but a girl needs a moment to herself once in awhile you know? Well, of course you don't know; you're not a girl. I know you're not a girl. Maybe if I had said "person" then you could…"

Her rambling somehow eased away all his tension and he straightened up, adopting his calm, self possessed demeanor once more. He smiled at her, one hand slipping smoothly into his pocket as he pushed away from the wall. "If you turn the light off, they are less likely to realize that you're in here." He reached out and pulled the small chain, effectively enveloping them in darkness again.

"Oh," Tracy responded, a mixture of understanding and unease.

"Don't worry, Darlin'; I'll stay over here, you stay over there. It's all kosher so long as no one finds us in here like this."

"You'd get in trouble if that happened," Tracy's voice whispered to him through the darkness.

"I'm not too worried about me, Doll, I'm more worried about you," he answered, his voice also low.

"Me?"

"Well, yeah; it wouldn't be good for a girl's reputation to be found in the closet with a fella', now would it?" he said smoothly.

Her response was only silence.

As his eyes adjusted to the darkness again he could almost make out her silhouette against the door behind her. He tried to think of something to say so that he could hear her talk some more, but nothing came to mind. It was a bit baffling; talking to girls had never been a problem for him, not since around the age of fifteen.

"So," she started finally, and he was glad that the darkness hid his grinning face, "why are you hiding in the closet? Is everything okay?"

"Everything's cool, babe," he said automatically.

More silence. He cleared his throat and adjusted his tie.

"You don't have to do that you know," she said softly.

This time her words caught him off guard. "Do what?"

"Put on the 'cool' act. It's okay not to be cool every second of every day. I mean, you're a person aren't you? People have bad days, it's allowed."

Link was stunned speechless for the second time since she'd come through the door.

"Things aren't always that simple, Trace," he said finally and then, uncomfortable with this shift in conversation, quickly added, "I should get going. I have a test in my next class."

"Of course…" Trace started, but her words were cut off when he bumped into her. For a moment they were confounded, neither knowing which way to go to let him pass; then he placed his hands cautiously on her shoulders and they danced sideways.

The closet's width was considerably less than its length, and with the buckets stacked against the walls, the move had the two of them pressed tightly together. Link breathed in the scent of her, like clean laundry and freshly baked cinnamon rolls. He took note of how nice she felt against him, how soft she felt beneath his fingers, and had to quickly redirect his thoughts. She was entirely _too close_.

"I'll see you at the studio later," he said quickly and darted out the door, forgetting to check for any stragglers lurking beyond. Luckily, the hallway was empty and he made his escape unnoticed.

He stood there for several moments, his hand almost reaching for the door knob, before he finally turned and walked away. There was no way he was going to make it through his next class.

He was going to need another place to hide.


	13. Any Which Way But Fine

It wasn't just any other rehearsal. This was the last free rehearsal before this year's Miss Teenage Hairspray Pageant, and Mrs. Von Tussle was putting them through their paces like never before. There was going to be a live studio audience for this performance, agents were coming in from New York; and so help them all_ it was going to be perfect_.

To say she was being a tyrant would be a gross understatement. Every council member was being pushed to their limit and beyond with the new dances and displays she was demanding. They went through dance after dance, not to mention the processions, promenades, and ceremonies that made up the show; and Mrs. Von Tussle insisted on perfection. Each one of them had been subjected to her sharp tone and cutting words, but the full force of her tyranny had been focused on one single person - her own daughter, Amber.

Of course this meant that, as her partner, Link was taking his fair share of collateral harassment; but the sharp words and intense pace didn't put a dent in his stamina. He found that the rigorous repetition brought a sense of sharp accuracy that filled him with pride, and the heaviness of exhausted muscles carried with it a sense of accomplishment that he relished. Simply put, Link just loved to dance. It was probably the combination of these things - added to the fact that he kept looking over to watch Tracy smiling and dancing with Bix - that kept him from realizing sooner just what bad shape Amber was in.

They had just completed the final turn when she went limp in his arms. He was supposed to spin her out and then bow as she curtsied; but instead he found himself simply holding her up, bracing his feet to support her dead weight. His stationary position put him into Tammy's spin out zone and she bumped into him and stumbled.

Mrs. Von Tussle was already halfway across the polished dance floor, cutting through the chain reaction of chaos, when Amber opened her eyes and managed to get her feet under her again.

"What is the matter with you two tonight?" Mrs. Von Tussle demanded. "How many times do we have to go over this before we can execute a simple bow?" Her voice was a harsh whisper, her pale hands fisted on her boney hips.

"It was my fault, Mrs. Von Tussle," Link inserted. "I guess I just need a break." He chanced a look at Amber, his hand still supporting her at the small of her back. She wasn't looking at either of them. "I think maybe we all do." This last part was added with a bit less subservience, and Velma's icy blue eyes narrowed at him.

"This pageant," she whispered, callously pointing at his chest with a skeletal finger, "Is very important to my daughter and I'm not going to let anyone screw it up for her, Mr. Larkin. If you don't think you can cope with the pressure then perhaps we should find her another partner."

"I'll be fine," he said a little more coldly. It wasn't their first confrontation. She knew he was the most capable dancer on the show and she knew that he made Amber look good. It was probably the biggest reason she allowed him to date her daughter. He had been playing this sport of conflict and manipulation with her for almost three years, and the strange thing was that it hadn't really ever bothered him before. It had simply been a part of the game he played to get what he needed, and where he wanted to go. Today he felt disgusted with the whole mess. "I'm just going to get a drink of water."

Velma threw her hands in the air, "fine." She then spoke loudly to the room at large, "everyone, take a short break." Her voice was sickly sweet and full of false cheer, a sign to everyone that she was barely containing her frustration. Still, they all breathed a sigh of relief and moved from their places, shuffling away on sore feet. "Five minutes, then back to work kids. This is our last chance to prepare and I know you want to do your best! There are agents coming, don't forget!" She turned back to her daughter, ignoring the quiet groans from all around her. "Amber dear, you look a bit… damp. Perhaps a little visit to the ladies room would be a good idea."

"Yes, mother," Amber said quietly and pressed a hand to her face. Mrs. Von Tussle gave her daughter a tight smile and Link a warning glare before she walked away swiftly, her high heels making a menacing click-clack on the hard flooring.

Link turned Amber around and led her off the floor and to a quiet corner away from the grumbling mass of council members. She sat down on the edge of the raised stage with a 'flump' of ruffled skirts and looked up at him with a glare of irritation.

"Are you okay?" he asked, stepping back from her and slipping his hands into his pockets.

"I'm fine," she said, not really looking at him but focusing her gaze on the air just past his left shoulder. "You're the one who insisted on a break." Link just studied her for a moment. She was purposefully avoiding his eyes, her fingers toying with his ring which hung from a chain around her neck. He found himself once again wondering why he had given the thing to her in the first place. At the time it seemed like the thing to do. She had been pressing him about it ever since it had arrived, and after a year together it had seemed like the next step to take. Then, when he messed up and dropped her on the show that day he figured giving it to her would keep him in her good graces. He hadn't thought much about it afterwards; but in the last week, every time he looked at it hanging there, everything about it seemed incredibly wrong.

Here she sat, obviously having trouble, and she wouldn't even let him help her; let alone admit she needed help. If he was her boyfriend then shouldn't they be able to share things like that? Sure, up until now they hadn't really spent time talking about personal things; mostly they had just been hanging out, being seen around town together, and some physical stuff. But he couldn't think of a time they had actually _talked_ about anything important. If they couldn't do that, then… what was this whole thing supposed to mean anyway?

"Amber," he began, wanting to address the situation. She must've heard something in his voice because she looked at him then, and he felt lucky his flesh hadn't been flayed from his bones; such was the intensity of her glare.

"Amber, are you alright?" Tracy's voice broke into the tense moment and Link knew his reaction to her arrival was written clearly on his face, a fact that was confirmed by the further darkening of his girlfriend's glower.

He turned to see Tracy standing near them, her face flushed with exertion, eyes filled with concern as they focused on Amber. "I thought maybe you could use a drink, so I brought you some water," she said steadily, continuing her offer despite the heat of Amber's gaze being turned on her. The ignored glass of water was still waiting in her small hand.

"I. Am. Fine," Amber said sharply. Then with saccharine concern she added, "Maybe you should worry about yourself right now. Frankly, I'm a tad concerned. You look like you might have a heart attack or something. It must truly be a strain carrying all that extra weight around on the dance floor when we're really working hard like this."

Link ground his teeth together in anger at her comment, and Tracy's peaceful countenance faltered slightly for a moment; but she recovered with a small smile. "I'll just leave it here in case you change your mind."

She moved to set the glass on the floor next to Amber but Link stepped forward and gently took it from her, his fingers brushing against her wrist as he did so. She looked up at him with surprise.

"Thanks Trace," he said, his hand lingering briefly.

"No… no problem," she responded with a late shrug. She turned and headed off toward the dressing area. After a moment of watching her walk away Link thought better of it and called out to her, but she didn't seem to hear him. He moved to follow but was stopped by the sound of Amber's voice.

"Link," she said, "you're supposed to be helping me."

He turned back to her with a sigh and she smiled victoriously as he took her hand in his. The plastic response fell away quickly when he pressed the cool glass into her palm.

"You're fine, remember?" he said softly. "Drink this and I'll be right back." He turned and hurried on sore feet to catch up to the other girl. He reached out a hand, touching her arm to get her attention.

"Hey, Trace," he said when she turned. She stopped and he came to stand in front of her. "How are you holding up? Mrs. Von Tussle is really working us over tonight, huh?"

"Yeah, she is. But I'm fine," she said softly, her exhaustion evident in her voice. They were the same words, but they had a completely different air about them than the ones Amber had spoken. She smiled up at him tiredly. "I'm exhausted but it feels good. When I nailed that swing combo it felt so amazing. It really gives you a sense of accomplishment doesn't it?"

Her words - so mirroring his own thoughts of a few moments ago - took him by surprise. "Yeah, it really does," he agreed.

"Is Amber gonna be alright?" Tracy asked, looking a little confused and worried. "I guess her mom really wants her to win."

"Don't you want to win, Trace?" he countered as he gave her a casual smirk.

"Well, of course I want to win," she said giving him a playfully saucy smile before turning serious again. "But still, I don't want her to be sick or anything…"

"She's tired and probably dehydrated, but I think she'll pull through," he said, still surprised by her concern. Though by now, he knew he shouldn't be.

"That's good," she said looking away for a moment. "How about you, you gonna be able to keep it up?"

"Hey, I'm Link Larkin; I can dance all day, all night – and look hip every minute of it," he finished the statement off with a wink and Tracy giggled, a sweet pleasing sound that pulsed through his chest, stealing his breath.

"That's good to know," she said and looked up at him with a look he could not decipher. She was so pretty it took his breath away and he stood there, stunned as every fiber of his being seemed to respond to her presence. His heart pounded out an unruly rhythm and the rushing in his ear seemed to whisper her name.

She looked back at him curiously, a small frown marring her brow, and he realized he had been staring. He opened his mouth to say something witty to cover his mistake but Mrs. Von Tussle stepped onto the floor, clapping her hands together to draw their attention. "Times up girls and boys, let's get back to work. We want to put on an incredible show, don't we now?"

Link and Tracy both stumbled over a few parting words and hurried back to their respective partners. He expected some retribution from Amber but none came. She just smiled sweetly at him as he helped her up and led her onto the dance floor.

They somehow made it through the rest of the rehearsal with their limbs and eardrums still intact. After the way he'd been carrying her around the floor, Link was surprised when Amber pulled him behind a bunch of props and shoved him up against the wall. Expecting a rebuke, he was stunned by the feel of her mouth covering his, her small form pressing intimately against him. His body responded before his mind could even catch up to what the hell was going on, and instinctively he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer.

She was stroking him through his clothes and kissing his neck, and he was quickly forgetting why this was just so wrong right now, when she suddenly stopped and leaned up to whisper in his ear, "I'm gonna forgive you for that little display earlier, because _I_ know that _you_ know exactly where you belong and _who_ you belong with."

She stepped back and gave him a look of pure sex, a promise of something she would forever withhold he was sure, but the affect was the same regardless. She poked a finger to his chest, and then let it trail down to his flat stomach before walking way; leaving him hard, frustrated, confused – and completely hacked off.

In fact he didn't think he'd ever been this angry in his entire life.

After taking a moment to get his body under some semblance of control, he slipped out of a service door and stormed across the lot to his car. Once inside he just sat in the driver seat, his hands gripping and releasing the white steering wheel. What the hell was going on with him? He was turning into some kind of crazy mess! He couldn't be a crazy mess; he was Link Larkin for Christ sake! He was cool, detached, and _above_ all of this. He didn't get twisted up over the things life threw at him. He didn't get heated over a chick.

He closed his eyes and exhaled slowly, letting his head fall back against the seat. He tried to reclaim that disconnected feeling, to find that switch and flip it, letting all of this just fade to the background. He couldn't seem to find it.

He slammed the heel of his hand against the steering wheel. How dare she pull that crap! How dare she treat him… exactly like she always had; like he was her toy or her pet to be leashed and manipulated at her whim…? It had been that way for a long time now and it was something he had put up with for the perks of the relationship. He was just having a hard time remembering those perks at the moment since every one that came to mind seemed somehow far less important than it once had.

She was beautiful and she was wanted by every other guy in school; fans liked the two of them together and that was very important. Dancing with her also guaranteed that he got more screen time since she was lead dancer… and with her mother as the station manager, keeping Amber happy gave him chances the others didn't get. He needed those opportunities; he had a plan…

He took another deep breath. It wasn't a big deal, it was about being seen and heard; that was his goal, the only thing that mattered. Then he could get a record deal, or a bit on Broadway; maybe film, or even more television – anything that would let him do what he wanted with his life…

Amber's words suddenly replayed over and over in his mind. _"…I know that you know exactly where you belong and who you belong with."_

The image of Tracy's face filled his mind's eye, unbidden, and he allowed himself to focus on it. He tried to recall every aspect of her features he hadn't let himself dwell on before, like wide-set, dark eyes framed with long dark lashes, the sweetly shaped bow of her bottom lip, lush curve of her cheek, or the expressive arch of her eyebrow; then there were all those full, lush curves…

He was pulled from these tempting thoughts by the sounds of tired and irritable kids exiting the studio. He didn't want anyone asking for a ride, not tonight; so he pushed thoughts of Tracy, Amber, and all those new worries out of his mind and leaned forward to start his car. The Miss Teenage Hairspray pageant was almost there and he'd get to do his thing for the agents Mrs. Von Tussle had invited. He was days away from his big break; and that was what mattered right now.

Holding onto that thought, he managed to find some of his former calm. Ignoring the twinges of regret he felt from somewhere deep within, he turned his car toward home and drove off into the night.


	14. Link Larkin Ropes the Moon

Link carefully gathered up his things from beneath his desk with an air of unhurried grace. He ignored Amber's indignant huffing beside him and purposely refused to look in her direction, no longer wanting to deal with her cold, harsh looks or her silent reprimands. Sauntering up to the front of class with a hipster grin, he accepted the slip of paper relegating him to detention from Mr. Flak. The history teacher's face was severely pinched in disapproval; arms still crossed over his chest as a shielding gesture.

When he stepped out into the hallway, Tracy was waiting and for the second time in his life, he felt as though he had just claimed a victory over some egregious foe. She was still smiling happily and he realized it did really insane things to his insides; there was just no point in denying it anymore, she turned him upside down.

All day he had been in turmoil, his stomach in knots, unsure what to do or what steps he needed to take. He found himself thinking about Tracy so many times; in fact… he couldn't _stop_ thinking about her. He was so drawn to her and the thought both thrilled him and made him incredibly nervous. These were things he had never felt before in his life and he didn't understand them. One minute he was over come with the feeling that he was going to mess up his whole life, throw away everything he had been working for with the slightest misstep; and the next he panicked that he was missing the most important part _of_ life somewhere along the way.

He didn't know where it was all coming from, but he new it started with and centered on this girl somehow, and he thought if he could just be with her… maybe he could figure everything else out as well.

He knew what had just happened back in the classroom was going to mean hell to pay with Amber later. She wasn't going to be happy about him standing up for her nemesis in front of a classroom full of fans and council mates, but he hadn't forgotten what had happened between them the night before. Something about that encounter, coupled with the crazy things going on inside his head as of late, had irrevocably changed everything he had thought he felt for her. The worst part of it was, he was starting to think he had been feeling that way for sometime now; he had just been ignoring it.

The situation with Amber was anything but simple, and he had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach just thinking about it; so he pushed it far away, to the back of his mind. He'd deal with that later, right now… Right now there was Tracy.

His locker was just across the hall from the classroom, so he walked over to it and stuffed his things inside, taking time to collect those disarrayed thoughts before turning back to the girl he couldn't get out of his mind. "So, detention?" He pointed down the hallway and gave her a questioning look. He'd been by the room on several occasions, but he hadn't really paid attention to where he was at the time.

Tracy pointed in the opposite direction and he nodded as he fell into step beside her. He watched her as they walked, took in the ease with which she moved in her round body, the way her hips swayed gracefully as she moved in a sashay that didn't look the least bit forced. Her small hands gripped the books she held close and he watched as she pulled her lower lip into her mouth, biting down on the tempting flesh with strong white teeth.

"I guess you don't even remember barging in on me in detention that day, do you?" Tracy said, breaking the long stretch of silence. She sounded a little uncertain about where she stood in the situation and he tried uselessly to think of something to say that would calm her; but her lips were distracting him…

He forced himself to look away from her mouth and found himself looking down at her feet. She was probably taking five steps to every one of his and he purposely slowed his gate; he wasn't in any rush. "I can't imagine what you must've thought…" she was saying, glancing up at him and he brought his gaze back to her face.

Absentmindedly, he folded the pink slip in half lengthwise and pinched it between his fingers as they made their way down the hall. Did he remember seeing her in detention? His mind went back to that moment for probably the hundredth time since it had happened and for the first time he let him self dwell on his earliest – quickly quashed – thought upon seeing her rotate her hips and smack herself on the behind. He thought about the way his heart beat had quickened and how his mouth had suddenly gone dry and that little voice inside of him had whispered…

_Holy moley… _

"Um… of course I remember," he said, tugging on the collar of the shirt beneath his sweater. "You're a great dancer, Trace. I remember thinking that you deserved a real shot at being on the show."

"Thank you," she said and he watched as a slight blush stained her pretty cheeks. "That means a lot coming from you. It did then too… though you scared the bejesus out of me when I first saw you there."

Link chuckled. "I'm sorry about startling you, but I meant it… mean it," he said. "I'm… real happy about how it all worked out." He smirked at her in his best heartthrob manner. "Even getting sent to detention."

Tracy laughed. "Me too," she returned, beaming up at him for a moment before slowing a little more and looking down at the worn linoleum flooring. "I just feel so sorry for Mr. Flak… I would never do something like that," she said after a moment. "I know how it feels."

Link felt a small rush of anger at that. He knew that despite her extreme popularity as a council member, she was still teased regularly by some people. But he knew it had been especially harsh today. Amber had been on a rampage since the moment she'd arrived at school; her own personal anti-Tracy campaign. He now wished that he hadn't waited so long to intervene… not that Amber would have listened to him anyway…

"You feel sorry for him even though he wouldn't hear your side of the story?" He asked, wanting to keep the attention away from all the things he should've done.

"Sure," Tracy said looking up at him earnestly. "He was just trying to… well, keep his cool… you know, just… teacher style."

Link laughed out loud at that. "I guess I can see that, sure. So then… do you ever get mad at anybody?"

"Sure I do!" Tracy said. "I get mad all the time."

"I find that hard to believe."

"Okay, well maybe not all the time…" she admitted and he laughed again.

"Bet you only get mad when folks are mean to other people, but not when it's directed at you," he said looking at her carefully.

"I stand up for myself," she said firmly.

They were walking very slowly now, dawdling down the hallway, and he hoped that she was trying to make the moment last as much as he was. He felt fairly confident that she liked him alright… he just wasn't sure how much; but he just knew she didn't loath him. Not with the way she smiled at him.

"Good," he said, feeling oddly unsure of what to say. That was another thing about her that was different and a little… terrifying - she was the only girl he could ever remember leaving him speechless. "That's good." He found himself looking at her mouth again and forced himself to look down the hall instead.

"This is fun," she said brightly after they had taken few steps.

He raised his eyebrows and then smiled, glad for the new topic to focus on. "Walking down the hall or getting sent to detention?"

"Not getting sent… well, wait till you get there," she grinned, bumping him with her hip. The feel of her softness against his thigh made him inexplicably giddy and he chuckled softly along with her light laughter. "But no," she continued and then said something that was even better than the hip bump. "I mean _this_, walking and talking with you. We dance on the show together and all, and the group hangs out, but talking just between you and me doesn't happen very much."

"No," he replied, "not nearly enough."

They neared a door with magazines draped over the narrow window, blocking the view to the inside, and Tracy stopped and turned to him.

"Well, here it is..."

"Mm, detention… anything I should know before we go in?" He reached a hand out, ready to open the door for her.

"You've never been in detention before?" she looked at him, concerned her brown gently furrowed with concern.

"Nope Doll, this is my first time. So be gentle," he said, and then he winked at her. Her frown dissipated and she smiled brightly at him as he turned the knob, pushing the door open for her and engulfing both of them in the excited energy of the room beyond.

Detention was full of black kids, all dancing and laughing together, and immediately he felt completely out of place. He glanced at Tracy as she walked in with easy confidence and followed after her as he worked to keep his uncharacteristic nerves at bay.

He was Link Larkin after all, no matter what room he found himself in. He could handle it…


	15. One Step Forward And All For Naught

From the moment Link had walked into Motormouth Records and gotten a good a look at all the kids grooving to the rhythm and blues, all he could think about was getting to dance with her.

They had watched each other dancing, they'd danced _near_ one another; but aside from that one time Corny had them do a demonstration, they had never actually danced _with_ each other. He wondered if they would move as well together in a dance they hadn't practiced for hours before hand. He wondered if she really felt as soft as he remembered or if his mind was playing tricks on him.

He'd almost gotten his answer too; he'd been moving closer, ready to pull her in and try out some of the moves going on around them when her mother had burst through the door like a mama hen coming for her chick.

Her very cute chick, he thought now, as he looked over at Tracy. They were sitting on Miss Maybelle's sofa, sampling rich brownies and talking… just_talking_… about anything and everything and nothing at all. He was once again surprised at how easy it was to carry on a conversation with her - secretly beyond pleased that he was finally here, in her world, and that he was the one who had her laughing so freely. An unprecedented giddiness settled deep in his chest as he watched her small hand politely cover her brownie filled mouth; head tipping back as she giggled happily at his well-placed comment.

He looked out again at all the kids dancing near by, squeezed in between shoved to the side record displays and the over flowing buffet table. Their moves were incredible… some of them very risqué; others quite complicated. He wanted to figure out every one of them. They moved so smoothly, kind of like water, and he was intrigued. He was used to a stiffer form… after all that's how he'd been dancing his whole life.

"Look at them go," he found himself saying aloud and Tracy moved a little closer as if trying to see what he was seeing. He could feel her warmth and again her scent invaded his senses; and he thought whatever words he had just spoken must have some sort of magic because _her_ closer to_ him_ was exactly what he wanted right then.

"Isn't it fantastic? Everybody's doing their own thing, and yet it works together," Tracy said, her face aglow with enthusiasm, and he remembered then that he'd said something about the dancing. He drew his gaze away from her face to look back at the dancers and spotted Seaweed amongst them. He was showing Tracy's friend - Penny was her name, he remembered - a simple move with the hips and the girl was giggling each time she did it wrong, holding her red lollipop up out of the way, her eyes locked intently on the boy in front of her.

Damn, that kid was smooth.

"If my legs were a little longer; I think I'd try that one right there," Tracy said and he followed her subtle pointing to a couple in the corner.

"Nah, your legs are fine; I'd just have to bend my legs a bit more…" he stalled, realizing what he'd just said. Tracy was looking at him very intently now and he stuttered a bit as he tried to recover. "O-or the guy you were dancing with… or you could dance with a shorter guy…"

"I wouldn't mind if it was you," she said, and he finally looked at her again.

He managed to contain what felt like an outrageous grin and turned toward her mother who was discussing recipes with Miss Maybelle. "Excuse me, Mrs. Turnblad," he began, and she turned toward him with a pleasant smile. He'd been making a bit more positive progress since the whole wink fiasco; which he still couldn't believe she had hated. The Wink had tested 90 percent positive on all women under the age of 70…

Of course, he hadn't been dancing with any of their daughters.

Then again, he hadn't really been dancing with Tracy either; and he wanted to fix that right now.

"I'd like to have your permission to ask Tracy to dance, Ma'am," he said in his most conciliatory tone of voice.

"I think that would be just fine," Mrs. Turnblad said, "long as you promise to be a gentleman."

"I wouldn't have it any other way. Thank you Mrs. Turnblad," he finished giving her an innocent smile. Then he turned to Tracy who, to his relief, was smiling widely. "Trace?" he asked. She took his offered hand and they moved out onto the floor.

He turned her gracefully until she was standing in front of him, and then looked around at the other dancers. He wasn't a hundred percent sure he could do this type of dancing, and that wasn't a common feeling for him; yet it was all the more thrilling because of that fact – not to mention _who_ he was dancing with.

In all honesty, he knew he shouldn't be attracted to her; he wasn't stupid. He wasn't supposed to find her sexy – with the way she was shaped and the size that she wore – but none of that mattered to him. When she moved; when she shimmied and swung her hips from side to side, he was definitely attracted. And when she sang he was attracted; and when she smiled all big and bright, when she laughed… aw, hell he was just plain _attracted_.

But there was something else there, too.

When he was near her, he felt _right_. He wasn't even sure why or when he had started feeling not quite himself when she wasn't around; but that's the way it was. He wasn't certain what that meant, but he just didn't want to fight it any more.

He pulled her close, but not too close since her mama was still watching. Cautiously, he slid his right foot between hers; then bent his knees so they were almost face to face. She looked a little nervous, her cheeks flushing prettily as his leg brushed the inside of her knee. He took a deep breath and smiled at her.

"Next time you can wear some high heels," he said softly, trying to ease the tension a bit, and she giggled.

"Oh, so you think there's gonna be a next time do you?" she returned, though she sounded as breathless as he had. He decided he liked it when she was sassy.

This position wasn't bad at all in his mind; although he thought they might get in trouble no matter how gentlemanly he tried to appear, since she was practically sitting on his thigh the way they were standing. He wrapped his arms around her and knew his memory had been deceiving him; she was even softer than he recalled. She put her arms around his neck and they started to move together, hips rolling one way and then the other, moving together but not touching.

He thought it felt like a song; one of those really great songs where the music, and the voice, and the lyrics all worked so well together that you felt it in your soul. Even though at first they were carefully following steps to a dance they didn't know, there was no awkwardness when they moved together, and he marveled at how that could be.

The warmth of her beneath his hand seemed to shiver up the length of his arm, and his fingers flexed self-consciously, sinking into her softness. She took in a somewhat shaky breath, and her hand on his shoulder squeezed gently. Hyper aware of every place her body touched his, Link's gaze drifted to her mouth, pink lips softly parted. He tipped her back as they moved together and his eyes followed the line of her throat to where her skin disappeared beneath the fabric of her modest blouse. He brought her back to him, a little closer than before and her eyes locked on his as the move caused her to be pressed fully against him.

As he looked into her eyes an idea, as sudden and overwhelming as a flash of lightning, filled his thoughts. What if he could feel _Tracy_ in his soul? What if that was why all this was happening, shifting and changing everything he thought he knew? His heart was pounding in his chest and as the last strains of the song drifted away, he had to pull back from her, but his eyes didn't look away.

"See," he began, sounding a bit breathless, and he mentally cursed the outward sign of his internal state of distress. "I told you, you're legs are fine. You're a great dancer."

She was looking up at him a bit like a deer caught in the headlights. "Um… thanks, you aren't bad yourself…" her tone didn't quite mesh with the wit of her comment, but since he was feeling completely off keel himself, he simply took her hand in his and led her back to the sofa. When they sat down next to each other, he didn't let go.

They sat quietly together for several minutes and Link listened to the conversations around them, waiting until he felt he could speak without sounding like a complete _dude_. He was in the middle of wondering if that moment would ever come when Inez came over and plopped down on his other side.

"You were doin' pretty good you know, but you gotta loosen up a little," she said looking at him, all serious in her short pigtails.

"Yeah, I think you might be right," he said in a friendly tone. Seaweed's sister was spunky and funny and he'd decided right away that he liked her. "Maybe you could help me out with that, show me…" he didn't even get to finish his sentence before she was pulling him out onto the floor, pulling him from Tracy's side and the warmth of her hand in his. He chuckled softly as they came to a stop right in the middle of all the other dancers.

"Girl, why are you bothering with him?" One of the older girls asked her; and Link once again felt very uncomfortable about the differences between his self, and this group of kids he found himself in. He knew it was, in fact, just skin; and yet in reality, it was somehow so much more.

Inez saved him from the awkward moment by tossing the girl a look. "I can't stand to see all this wasted potential! I think he can do it, so move your skinny self." The girl in question laughed and moved away, and then Inez proceeded to show him how it was done. After a few moments, _everyone_ was in on the process; they were all trying to help the white boy dance. Tracy laughed, coming to his aid, standing close and doing the moves along with him. Maybe he would've been embarrassed if he wasn't having so much fun – but still, the discomfited tension with her from before melted away; and after a short while, he was doing every move right along with them, completely caught up in her eyes.

Maybe it was her or maybe it was him, he didn't know; but what he did know was that despite being completely out of his element and with the "wrong" crowd – for this one moment, everything made sense again for the first time in a long, long while.

A few hours of happy, easy moments spent with Tracy, dancing or close together on Miss Maybelle's love seat, feeling like he could never remember feeling before - then everything came to a sudden, screeching, stomach twisting halt…


	16. On the Edge of Chaos

--

He had walked six blocks and passed by almost as many bus stops when his attempt at an unaffected façade crumbled completely. Once upon a time he could maintain it through the darkest moments. Hell, it was in his darkest moments that he had perfected the act, but it certainly wasn't working for him now. He closed his eyes and all he could see were those big, beautiful brown eyes welling up with tears. His feet shuffled to an abrupt stop on the sidewalk.

Why did he feel such a strong desire to go back there and change his answer? Yes, he thought all the kids should get to dance… that no one had the right to hold another back because of race or appearance or creed… he hadn't ever really thought about it before now _– before Tracy_; but he _did_ believe that. _But_… he had also been working for this chance, this shot, for as long as he could remember… He couldn't give it all up now, not when he was finally so close.

Couldn't they fight to get Negro day back…or better yet, all the kids on the show together… _after_ the pageant? Would it be so bad for all of this to wait just two more days?

Trying to rid himself of these conflicting thoughts, he looked up from the toes of his shoes and took note of his location. He was in a part of town he didn't fully recognize and he noticed passersby looked at him as if he were an oddity of some kind. He tried not to look as uncomfortable as he felt. He glanced around and spotted a bus stop two blocks down and across the street. He hurried toward it, slumping down onto the dilapidated bench with a sigh of unease and defeat.

He closed his eyes to try and calm himself and an image of Tracy's hurt expression - the way she had drawn back from him after he had said those stupid words - flooded his mind and his stomach twisted painfully. His fingers still felt cold from where she had pulled her hand away from his.

A sharp expletive was on the tip of his tongue, an attempt to release some the tension building up inside him, when a little old black woman shuffled up to the bench with a knobby cane clutched in her spidery hand. He bit off the profanity and instead let his head fall back against the bench with a painful thud.

"C'mon now young man, it can't be all that bad?" the woman's voice pried into his thoughts.

Link opened his eyes and found her watching him with what seemed to be genuine concern. Why did that concern feel more like a knife twisting in his heart? _Because I am the biggest, most selfish asshole alive that's why._ He shoved the thought forcefully away. Looking out for your future was not selfish, it was… intelligent and necessary.

He realized her look had changed to one of wariness, and that he hadn't yet responded to her. Link sighed quietly. "I dunno ma'am, it's pretty… bad."

"Oh well, child, you just remember one thing for Bella, okay?" she seemed to expect his compliance so he nodded. "Don't let yourself get all downcast. Your miracle could be out there right now, waiting for you, and you're missin' it! Don't waste time bangin' yer head, open your eyes instead."

Link stared after her with wide blue eyes, her words bouncing around in his brain like spilled tennis balls. He watched her shuffle onto the bus, still trying to put them all together in his mind. What the hell did that mean? How come everything in his life lately made him feel like he was a stupid fool in way over his head?

It wasn't until he was watching the bus pull away that he realized he had intended to get on it. He dropped his head into his hands and groaned. He was a mess. He was completely losing his mind. Nothing made sense anymore, nothing at all.

One minute he was so sure, so certain of what he wanted and how he would go about it – and the next it was crumbling at his feet. Why did this have to happen? Why now of all times; with the pageant on the horizon and things with Tracy just beginning to maybe go somewhere. And why did he feel as though he had betrayed her so deeply? Not just with his carelessly chosen words, but by his choice. He'd never made any promises to her. Surely she understood this was what he had to do?

By the time he finally made it home, his mind and his emotions had settled into their usual state of, what he could now only label, numbness. A feeling that had once brought comfort and a sense of control, now felt uneasy and inherently wrong. He wasn't meant to feel this way – it wasn't right; but he had no idea what _was_ right. Certainly not the fierce turmoil he'd been in before?

That night he tossed and turned in his bed, unable even to fall into the quiet comfort of sleep. After hours of lying there staring at the walls, he sat up, thoughts circling his mind in chaos until he couldn't sit still any longer. Giving up on the idea of rest altogether, he pulled on some pants and padded quietly down to the kitchen.

Mrs. Crandall found him there sometime later, staring into a bowl of melting ice cream, with the early morning sun streaming in on him from the kitchen window. He looked up in surprise when she appeared, looking like a naughty child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. She stopped in the door way and studied him a moment before walking over to where he sat. "Mm, and it's strawberry too – this must be bad."

Link swallowed and said the first thing that popped into his head. "You know about the strawberry ice cream?"

"Sweetie, who do you think keeps the freezer stocked with that strawberry ice cream?" she asked, raising a dark eyebrow.

Link looked down guiltily into his bowl.

"You want to tell my why you are up so early this mornin', and why it looks like you've been here for awhile? Couldn't sleep again?" He looked up at her surprised for the second time. Mrs. Crandall had been their cook and housekeeper since not long after his mother had died. In fact, every memory of home since that horrible day – when the house had been filled with somber faced people dressed in black, saying deep things in hushed tones and he'd spent the entire time hiding under his parents' bed – had her in it in some way. Yet he couldn't remember ever really talking to her about anything beyond pleasantries and necessities. How did she seem to know him so well?

"Mrs. Crandall, do you think that I'm a coward?" he found himself asking out of the blue, his hands rubbing nervously down his thighs, eyes locked on his bowl.

The woman paused in wrapping her colorful apron around her full form. She looked at him curiously. "Who told you that you were?"

He shook his head slightly and lifted his spoon from the bowl, watching creamy, pink liquid drip from the end of it, then set it down again. "Would you say I'm completely selfish and self centered?"

She walked over to the refrigerator and pulled out a jar of milk and a carton of eggs. Link got up and helped her, taking the eggs and grabbing the loaf of bread off the counter and setting them down near the stove in her usual workspace.

"I think," she said, looking at him from the corner of her eye as he leaned back against the counter, arms crossed over his chest and eyes on the floor, "that if you are asking the question then it obviously can't be so."

"That's not really an answer," he said softly. He looked over at her beating eggs and realized he really wanted someone to tell him that he was alright; that he wasn't crazy, or stupid, or completely broken and unworthy. He tried to form words that would explain everything that was going through his head but he couldn't. How could he, when he didn't even understand it himself, or know why he wanted to tell Mrs. Crandall about it in the first place?

"Lincoln?" He grimaced at her use of his full name. "Do you want to be selfish and self centered?" She looked at him intently, her spoon momentarily still.

He looked at her, stunned and then took a moment to look at himself, to really look at himself. It was a bit overwhelming, to see who and what he had become and know that wasn't who he had ever intended to be at all. His heart was pounding a bit, as he looked up once more; but he had an answer. "No," he said with quiet determination. "No I don't."

"Then don't be."

The idea of school was daunting, and the comforting thought of it being Friday was sadly fleeting; because tomorrow was the pageant and that would bring with it plenty of trouble all on its own. He parked his car in his usual spot and sat looking at the familiar gray building with a sense foreboding.

Tracy would be in there and he wanted to find her and tell her he was sorry, make her see that he had not meant that comment as any kind of a statement on her size; tell her he would never purposefully hurt her like that, but there was still the matter of the march. As much as he wanted to make things right with her, he had worked too hard to get to this chance. He couldn't blow his shot, he just couldn't; he might not get another one.

Amber would also be in there, and that was something he had no idea how he would deal with. He'd hardly thought of Amber since he'd left her in history class the previous day. He knew they were over in truth, if not in actual fact. He knew he needed to break up with her, but again that was a problem. If he broke up with Amber today, he more than likely wouldn't be singing tomorrow. Mrs. Von Tussle wouldn't be happy if he dumped her little girl right before what she intended as the most important day of her life so far. In fact, she might even find a way to make sure he was made a fool of; he'd watched her do it plenty of times before.

But if he kept dating Amber for those reasons alone then he was a selfish asshole – and he knew it.

"It's just one day really," he said, trying to find some sense of justification. "A day and a half… Just get through today and the pageant, then you can tell Amber you're sorry but it's over and then do every damn thing you can think of to make it up to Tracy… and," he ran his hands over his face; "and talk to yourself some more, because that's just really cool."

It was immediately obvious that Amber was punishing him for yesterday. She turned up her nose at his arrival, and refused to speak to him throughout the day. He probably would have been relieved during lunch, when she sat at the other end of the table, if he hadn't been obsessed over finding Tracy. His eyes scanned the mass of students for any sign of her, or her friend Penny – or maybe even Seaweed; but no one was in sight.

_They wouldn't have skipped school because of the march would they_?

"Man, you better start kissing up to Amber soon or you're gonna be in the dog house permanently," Jessie said leaning over to him. Link looked at him as if surprised he was even there.

"You know, I really couldn't care less," he said after a moment and then winced inwardly. That was cruel. Thankfully the lunch bell rang, rescuing him, and he got up quickly. "I gotta go, see you guys later… at the studio."

"Link, they're airing a taped show this afternoon so they can prepare for the pageant, remember?" Jessie said looking at him as if he had suddenly sprouted a second head.

"Right, right – I forgot about that. Just later then I guess," Link answered quickly and made his way toward the school as swiftly as he could without dropping his hip swagger.

He cut through the halls and headed straight for the detention room, opening the door without knocking. He scanned the quiet room, finding only a freshman with large black rimmed glasses sitting in the corner.

"You the only one in here?" he asked pointlessly, realizing a second too late how stupid he sounded. The kid blinked at him then looked around for a moment before answering.

"Um, yeah, there was a whole bunch'a kids in here a few minutes ago, but they all left."

Link wanted to ask if one of them had been Tracy but he stopped himself. Instead he nodded and said, "thanks kid" before slipping back out and closing the door behind him.

Link was watching the time in his last class, staring at the red second hand as it sped its way around the broad clock face, that fast approaching 4 o'clock forefront in his mind.

The march.

He knew that Tracy would go, he had no doubt about it in his mind – that's the kind of person she was. And once Mrs. Von Tussle or Mr. Spritzer knew that she had marched she would be off the show no matter what Corny or anyone else wanted. She was, in essence, boycotting the show itself. She was giving up something she cared deeply about in order to do what she thought was right and that alone amazed him. He hadn't met anyone so devoted to things other than themselves in a long time. Tracy was just …

He didn't think he could imagine… the show… without her now.

The bell rang and he sprang from his seat, hearing Mr. Bolly behind him shout out a reminder of a test on Monday. He barely registered the words at all. He opened his locker and tried to remember which books he needed to bring home but for the life of him, couldn't even remember what classes he had been to that day. He shoved the whole mass into his bag – making it insanely heavy – and then turned to leave, stopping abruptly as he came face to face with Amber.

"Link, sweetie, I'm sorry for ignoring you," she said reaching out to take a hold of his sweater as he started to pull away. She jutted her bottom lip out in a soft pout. "I was mad, but I'm over it. I don't want us to fight."

Link sighed, his eyes roaming her face searchingly. What he was trying to find, he wasn't sure - a reason to stay? Or the reason he had stayed so long? Was he really that shallow, _that selfish_, that he had dated a girl all this time just because she was pretty and popular and gave him an advantage on the show? Both of them deserved better than that, didn't they?

"Amber, I think we need to talk…" he started reaching out for her hand. She pulled it away and frowned at him for a moment, then her face changed completely, lighting up with one of her specious smiles.

"We'll talk later, right now I'm meeting mother at the hairdressers. I want to look my best for tomorrow. I'm going to get a manicure and a facial, it's simply the most! You're going to have the prettiest girl in Baltimore on your arm tomorrow. Just wait until those agents get a look at us, Link. We're gonna really wow them!" She leaned up quickly and kissed him on the cheek and twirled off down the hallway before he could respond to anything she had said.

"Amber," he called after her retreating back, but she just turned around and blew him a kiss before stepping out into the sunlight.

The house was empty when he arrived home, just as it usually was. He dropped his bag and went into the kitchen out of habit, looking for a snack. On the island there was a plate of cookies and again he realized what a jerk he was for never seeing the things Mrs. Crandall had been doing for him for so many years.

What other things had he been missing, what other small details of life had he over looked completely in his self-centered existence; and where did this new sense of awareness come from anyway? He stilled his rampant thoughts for a moment because he was pretty sure he knew the answer.

He picked up one of the large cookies, but his stomach rebelled at the idea of him eating it so he set it back down and returned to the living room. He pulled his bag over to the sofa and flopped down with his English book in hand.

He opened to the marked page and read the title, _A Retrieved Reformation_, three times before it actually registered. He flipped to the essay questions at the back, hoping that with them in mind he might focus better.

"What event causes Jimmy Valentine to change his life?"

He looked up at the clock on the wall and tapped his pencil on his leg. 4:30 – they were already marching. He wondered what route they'd take and how many people had shown up. He wondered where Tracy was standing. Probably right up front if he knew her at all. The thought made him smile a little, and then chew his lip in worry. He looked back down at his homework.

"Do you believe a person can really change their life in such a way? Explain."

All he could see in his mind was Tracy. All he could hear was her voice saying, _"but it's what's right."_

He snapped the book shut and tossed it onto the coffee table. He couldn't study. He couldn't even think straight.

He stood up and started pacing the floor; but no matter how many steps he took across the well worn Oriental rug he couldn't stop his imagination from conjuring up countless scenarios in which Tracy was hurt, arrested, attacked, or any number of other things that could go wrong. He turned on the radio to try and distract himself with music, but even the gleeful vocalizations of Chubby Checker did nothing to distract him.

He didn't know how much time passed as he listened and worried, trying to engage his mind with new dance moves and song lyrics. He knew Mrs. Crandall had called him into dinner but he had told her he wasn't hungry. He knew he tried to watch the television which was still on, displaying images that went unnoticed; and he knew that he hadn't stopped thinking about Tracy once since he had left her at Maybelle's the night before, with tears in her eyes and hurt etched on her sweet face.

As he threw himself on the couch, letting his head fall back against the soft cushions, he felt frustration join the insentient worry that had been plaguing his subconscious.

This was crazy! She was just marching – everything would be fine. Yes, he had messed up; he'd been a selfish jerk – but that was going to change. He'd make it up to her as soon as he saw her again. He'd show her that he could be the kind of guy she thought he was and then… and then… and then _what_?

He liked her; he could admit that. It wasn't as if liking her was a hard thing to do. She was sweet and smiling, always so enthusiastic and kind – what was there not to like? She was like joy wrapped up in human form. Of course, so were Noreen and Doreen. They were twin bundles of constant happiness really; but he had never wanted to kiss either of them… and he knew he wanted to kiss Tracy – the thought caused a small smile to steal over his features. He'd wanted to kiss her ever since… since…

He tried to remember the first time he'd wanted to – thinking of her mouth, sweetly bowed or curved up in a grin; but every moment he recalled, he knew there was one before. This train of thought continued until, mentally, he was standing in the detention room and looking down at her stunned, nervous face, her full lips parted softly in surprise, providing a glimpse of pink tongue inside.

He sat up on the sofa again, completely thunderstruck.

Had he really wanted to kiss her all this time?

He stood up and started to pace again. He thought about Tracy; about holding her hand and watching her dance. About _all_ the times thoughts of her had invaded his mind, almost against his will. He thought about dark eyes that looked inside of him and soft lips that called to him. Since the moment he had first seen her, stealing a glance at the new recruits on audition day, that girl had never been far from his mind. He thought about her in class and at home; looked forward to everyday that he would get to see her or spend time with her…

He had thought about her all day today – worrying over her to the point that he had almost forgotten that tomorrow was his big break, his shot, the shot he'd been working toward since he was fifteen years old. This was more than like, this was way more than attraction; this thing was so insane, so big…

Why, anyone would think…

A person might get the idea that he…

That he was…

That he was in love with her or some… thing…

Link stopped pacing, almost frozen in mid step. His heart was pounding, his hands were shaking; and he wasn't entirely certain that he was even breathing.

_Tracy…_

"That's right – Tracy Turnblad - a star dancer on the Corny Collins Show, was caught on camera earlier this evening, fleeing the scene after she savagely bludgeoned Mike Morris; decorated officer and celebrated Eagle Scout. Miss Turnblad and a large group of Negro rabble-rousers stormed the WYZT television station…" Link whipped around at the mention of her name, his gaze locking immediately on the image of her on the black and white screen, looking beautiful and brave next to Maybelle Stubbs; and for a moment, he was sure his heart stopped completely.

He stood staring at the television in complete shock for several minutes before he grabbed his keys and headed for the door.

He was a fool and he had to find her.


	17. Wrong Side Right

Everything was absolutely, completely and utterly wrong… and nothing had ever felt so _right_ in his life. She had turned his entire existence so entirely upside down that he had no idea what was top from bottom. Nothing was the same.

He felt a little crazy.

He felt completely un-cool.

He felt_alive_.

Everything was different, and he never wanted to go back to the way it had been. He had no idea where it was going or what would happen next, but he wasn't afraid; because when he looked into her eyes… when he looked into her eyes he saw hope, he saw life; he thought maybe he could see forever…

How could that not scare the hell out of him?

It didn't though. He might not know exactly how or when it happened, but he knew one thing for certain…

He was completely, head over heels, one hundred percent in love with Tracy Turnblad.

-

He left his house in a rush with no plan whatsoever and ended up driving around aimlessly trying to find her. After at least an hour he realized he had no idea where to look and ended up pulling up to the curb outside her house. He knew which one it was because he had driven her home once. He remembered watching her walk up the scrubbed steps with a happy bounce in her step. What an idiot he'd been not to realize then that he was falling for her.

The idea of showing up on her doorstep unannounced had him feeling uneasy, but no more so than the idea of going home to wait alone, not knowing when, or if he'd get news of her… Who'd even think to call him and tell him she was alright, or, and he hated to even think it, _not_ alright?

Once he had made it to the front door, Mrs. Turnblad's large but gentle hand on his shoulder was almost instantly comforting, even though he'd be surprised when she'd invited him in. He hadn't been sure of the reception he'd receive after what had happened at the record store but she seemed happy to have him to fuss over.

He had even managed to eat some of the delicious smelling pork she had made; despite the fact that his stomach was knotted with concern, twisted with nervous excitement over his new realizations and that he was loathe to lose the lingering taste of the Baby Ruth he'd taken from Tracy's room. He apologized for not being able to eat much and Tracy's mother smiled sympathetically and nodded that he could be excused. He carried his dishes into the small kitchen and when he saw Mr. Turnblad filling the sink to wash, he found himself offering to help. Anything to keep his mind off his worry over Tracy.

He and Mr. Turnblad washed for several moments with only sound of the soapy water sloshing in the sink and the clink of the dishes to keep them company, and then Tracy's dad spoke, his words tentative and careful. "You know, my little girl is a very strong and resourceful person," he said, his cadence oddly off beat. Link nodded as he slowly pulled the dish towel off his shoulders and wiped his hands on it.

"I know," he replied.

"That is to say," the older man made direct eye contact with him and Link had the distinct feeling he should listen carefully. "She'll be alright."

"I hope so, sir," Link said. "Whatever happens… I'm going to be here for her from now on."

Mr. Turnblad smiled. "That's good to know."

They turned back to their task and as Link accepted a chipped, rose patterned piece of china, Mr. Turnblad asked him about the being on the Corny Collins show and other aspects of his life and career. He was surprised by the man's willingness to talk to him as if his opinions and decisions mattered, not dismissing him as some immature child who didn't know left from right. They fell into a comfortable conversation and soon they were putting clean and dry dishes away in the crowded cabinets. The sound of the phone ringing halted them mid motion and Link found Mr. Turnblad's eyes on him with a look of concern that echoed the tight feeling in his chest. They hurried out to the living room together when Mrs. Turnblad has called out.

Link stood quietly in the background as Mr. Turnblad was handed the phone. He ran the damp towel through his fist several times as he listened to one side of the conversation, his blues eyes focused intently on the back of Mr. Turnblad's head.

"Tracy, hold on a minute…" Mr. Turnblad was saying into the receiver. "Yes Hun, I understand but… Hmm… She hung up."

"She hung up on you?" Mrs. Turnblad said in disbelief, "It's not like our Tracy to be rude."

"I don't think she meant to be rude, Hun, I just think she was in a bit of a rush. Our girl's got something up her sleeve!" he said the last part rather proudly, rocking forward on the balls of his feet. Tracy's mother worried at her fingernails.

"Oh, she's got some wacky plan in her head… I'm so worried. What if she…"

"Doll!" Mr. Turnblad said softly. "We're gonna be there to help her. Somehow this will all work out, you'll see."

She nodded, trying to smile at her husband and then her eyes drifted to Link. "Oh, Link! I'm sorry dear I forgot you were still here… I've just been so frazzled."

"Um, it's alright," Link said slowly. There was a terrible lump in his throat and his heart was pounding a mile a minute. The rush he had felt when he was standing in her room, foolishly confessing his love to her picture came roaring back and for a moment; all other thoughts and words were lost to him. "Tracy…"

"She's alright," Mrs. Turnblad said, assuming that was what he'd intended to ask. "She's with Miss Maybelle and …"

Link didn't really hear anything else she said after that because he had already started moving to the door. "Thank you," he called. "For taking me in and for the food Mrs. Turnblad, it was amazing."

He flew down the steps and leapt into his car, not even bothering to open the door. He laughed out loud as he started the engine and pulled out into the street, the lights from the patrolling police car reflecting for a moment in his rearview mirror. Yeah, he was a little bit crazy but he didn't really care.

He didn't remember the drive from her house to the record store. He'd been so caught up thinking about her and all he had to tell her and about everything that had happened, next thing he knew he was banging on the door to Motormouth Records and being yanked inside by a startled, but apparently quick witted Seaweed.

Link stumbled into the dimly lit room and was surprised by the large group of kids gathered there. All of them were talking and planning together, and he felt awkward and out of place amidst what looked like some sort of meeting. Then he spotted Tracy, her eyes wide with surprise at the sight of him and all other thoughts or worries had fled. Her hair had gone flat and she looked so tired but determined… good God, she was beautiful.

"Link, what are you doing here?" she exclaimed, taking a step in his direction then stopping uncertainly.

"Trace, I had to talk to you," he blurted out, hurrying towards her. "I'm so sorry about yesterday and about today, too. I…" All his words were coming out in a chaotic rush. He pressed a hand to his forehead as if to somehow slow things down. Where had all his cool detachment gone when he needed it? Tracy, however, managed a bit of her own cool and grabbed his hand, dragging him out through the back and into the alley.

"Link, it's fine; I'm not mad at you," she said turning to him immediately after the door closed behind them. "I know that you're a man and you're gonna put your career first… I'm not mad."

"What? That's ridiculous, and it's not just about you being mad. I want you to know that I know I was wrong. I should've come with you, big break or no big break. I was a selfish jerk, and what I said… I really didn't mean it that way; I'd never want to hurt you… mm." She pressed a finger against his lips, halting his rambling speech. He looked down and saw her grinning widely.

"All that is behind us now, right?" she said. "You can't change it and neither can I. But you're here now aren't you?"

"Yeah, yeah I am," he answered, smiling back at her once she had removed her finger from his lips. He watched her hand as it fell to her side and fought the urge to reach out and take it in his. "So what are you going to do about the pageant?" he asked. "You're ma said you had some wacky plan. How can I help?"

"My ma?"

"Oh," he cleared his throat, _right_… "Yeah, I was… um, pretty worried when I saw you on the news and I … ah, went to your house to see if you were okay…"

"You were worried about me?"

"Well, yeah baby doll. They were saying all kinds of things I knew couldn't be true, and I was feeling pretty guilty. God Trace, I should'a been there with you. I don't know what I'd do if anything happened to you."

She smiled softly, swaying slightly with her words. "It's alright, I already told you… but thank you for worrying." He was all caught up in the look on her face, all humble kindness and sweetness that just wrapped around his heart and wouldn't let go.

"So," he said, clearing his throat and trying to grin, "tell me about this plan." They'd been moving closer, bit by bit, during their conversation; and not for the first time, he marveled at how easy it was to be with her, no taunts, no demands, no constant second guessing.

"Well, we pretty much have the whole thing worked out…" she looked away momentarily distracted by her thoughts. He watched her small, manicured finger tap thoughtfully at her lower lip. "Except how to get Skillet and Seaweed into the props room before the show…"

"You mean you need something like…" he reached in his pocket and pulled out his keys, looking quickly for the correct one, "this, perhaps?"

"You have a key to the props room?" she asked with surprise, taking the offered object and working it off his key ring. "How did you get a key to the props room? _Why_ do you have a key to the props room?"

"Hey Doll, c'mon, a cat can't give out all his secrets," he said, not wanting to answer either of those questions at the moment. "Now tell me how else I can help."

"Don't you worry about anything else, alright? Tomorrow I just want you go out there and do your thing for those agents, Link. Forget about all this and just know I'll be there cheering you on."

"I'm not so sure I can do that, Trace," he said, grinning at her because he couldn't help it. Even though she was hiding out and wanted by the police; she was smiling and she had a plan, and she simply amazed him. "You've pretty much been all I could think about for sometime now, baby. I'm not sure I'll be able to focus much on performing."

This confession took her by surprise he noticed, and his heart thumped a little harder. Good to know he could affect her too... "What?" she asked softly, and those eyes of hers were staring into him again.

"I haven't even told you what I came here to tell ya, Trace," he said, stepping closer, his face serious. She had to tip her head back a bit farther to look up at him. He reached out a hand and caressed her cheek and her breath audibly hitched in her chest, but she didn't pull away. His gaze fell to her lips as his thumb brushed that sweet, pink bow; finding it even softer than his imagination had conjured. "I think, I… Trace, I'm completely crazy about you."

"You are?" she asked, sounding surprised and pleased. She raised her hand, placing it over his, and her response gave him courage.

"Oh yeah, I've got it pretty bad. In fact," he took a deep breath and looked right in those brown eyes of hers, where the sun rose and set, where life suddenly made perfect sense and none at all. "I think I'm in love with you, Tracy Turnblad."

"Link…" she whispered and he bent forward to kiss her, watching and waiting for her approval or rejection. She leaned toward him and his heart sang as her very presence seemed to invade all of his senses.

The back door of the record shop banged open rather loudly, breaking the moment before their lips made contact, and they jerked back from each other to spin around and see who had witnessed their little moment.

"I think, perhaps our little fugitive ought'a come back inside where she's less likely to be spotted," Miss Maybelle said, leaning casually against the door jam and giving them a knowing grin. "Link, you should probably be getting home. It's late and tomorrow is a big day."

"She's right, you should get some sleep. I want you to do your best. I wouldn't want you to blow your shot because of me." Tracy said, looking up at him.

He frowned, "Trace…" but she didn't let him finish. She just threw her arms around him, hugging him tightly and he hugged her back, wanting somehow to put all the life and empowerment she had given him into that hug for her to take with her; while at the same time memorizing the sweet way she smelled and the way she felt, soft and curvy, pressed so tightly against him. He wanted to have that memory to carry him through until he saw her again.

"I'll see you tomorrow," she said near his ear and her voice seemed to touch something deep inside of him. He swallowed hard, not wanting to let her go.

"I'll be waiting," he answered and she pulled away slowly.

He watched as she disappeared back into the record shop, his hands slipping helplessly into his pockets. He turned and walked the short distance back to his car, climbing in and turning the ignition. She hadn't returned his sentiment, but he thought, strangely, he was okay with that for now. He knew she had some positive feelings, he'd seen her room and he was pretty sure she wouldn't have let him almost kiss her just now if she loathed him. But he had selfishly abandoned her yesterday, and hurt her… he had kept himself hidden until tonight, and he couldn't expect her to love him if he didn't let her really know who he was.

That was something he was going to have to change.

What lay in front of him wasn't easy. He still had so much to deal with and understand, but he would do it, he'd push through. He would do whatever it took to be the man that Tracy Turnblad could love in return.

The End

_epilogue follows_


	18. Epilogue

_Epilogue_

Her heart was filled to bursting.

All around her the bright lights shone down on the twirling skirts and sweeping legs of the dancers on the floor. The audience full of people cheered happily, some of them coming down to join them. Inez stood proud and gleeful near Corny's podium with her sparkly crown perched on her head.

She had set out to grab her shot at Miss Teenage Hairspray, not just for herself but because there was just no way she was going to let Velma get her way without a fight; but things had worked out so much better than she ever could have imagined. Part of the reason for that currently had his arms wrapped tightly around her, with his nose brushing gently against hers.

"I think I might be dreaming," she said quietly. They had pulled away from the crowd and huddled together off to the side while the Corny Collins Show tried to finish up the Pageant. Link was smiling and holding her and he couldn't seem to stop touching her hair.

"Maybe I should pinch you?" he offered, grinning at her as he twirled a dark tress around his finger, and she giggled.

"You just kissed me on live television," she whispered. He only grinned wider and kissed her again, his lips just slightly parted, taking her lower lip between them. His lips were warm and soft against hers and she sighed into the kiss.

"Well, Doll; I was just staking my claim," he said once they had parted again.

"Oh really?" she teased, tightening her hold on him a little, staking a silent claim of her own.

"I'm crazy about you Tracy, and I'm all yours… if you'll have me?"

Tracy smiled, wrapping her arms around his waist and pulling him close. "I knew you'd figure it out eventually."

Link leaned in and she was enveloped by his presence, his scent and warmth so comforting. "Smart and beautiful," he whispered against her lips. "I am very lucky."

"No," she said smiling, "we both are," and this time she kissed him.

--

A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who read and reviewed. Everyone has been so great and encouraging. I'm feeling a little sad that this series in over! Thanks to my Super Beta, without whom none of this would've ever gone anywhere. :)


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